


Into the Wild

by jenaicompris



Series: The Long Road [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Romance, alternative universe, kid in King Arthur's court
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 58,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenaicompris/pseuds/jenaicompris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hopefully-not-very-Mary-Sue tale of a girl-gone-Thedas in which a college student finds herself smack dab in the middle of a darkspawn horde trying to overtake Ostagar and the rest of the known world. Follows game story with some minor detours and a whole new perspective. Cross posted from fanfiction.net/~marvy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tent by the River

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Dragon Age characters, history, and general universe are not mine.

It had all become just a little too much. The classes, the hours at work, the relationship that was slowly sailing into a rocky shore. There was only one way to deal with it; run away.

I had tried to fight; I had tried to manage my time, to work less – couldn't pay rent. I had tried to work more – my boyfriend refused to cooperate. I had tried to say "screw this, I'm going to live in a cardboard box". But, you know, sleeping on cement is about as comfortable as you imagine it would be.

Okay, maybe that last bit isn't true – the part about the box, not about cement. I imagine that's true. I did, however, decide I was going to take a long weekend to go camping. I had been doing it for years with my family, before everything fell apart. I knew my way around the woods far north of my hometown. I knew how to pitch my tent, how to douse my fire. I knew how to, not very cleanly, kill a rabbit with my bow. I usually mangled more meat than I ate, but gun season wasn't for a few months and I never liked the noise. My shots were rarely good, but they were usually effective in some way. Mostly.

It was pretty dark that first night, the moon wasn't very full. The river that snaked through the campground made the typical rushing sounds as I leaned against my bedroll, tucked halfway into my tent with my fire a few feet away; it was small, mostly embers now. I didn't want to put it out, not entirely. I was too awake to sleep but too tired to do much of anything.

I was, however, apparently tired enough to fall asleep without really trying. I neglected to put the embers out, as I did not intend on my eyes closing and the world falling away. The sleep was welcome once it came, overwhelming darkness and a silence that enveloped me as I lay half-out of my aged tent.

At some point during the night, the delightful respite of a dreamless sleep was torn asunder by a screech unlike anything I had ever heard. I started in my sleep and flailed as I awoke; above me, blotting out what parts of the moon showed, was something very impossible. It looked to be a bird, but couldn't it have been. It was too big, too long. And far too loud.

It didn't seem to notice me, whatever it was. It just kept on flying. And screeching occasionally. I sat in stunned silence after it passed, searching my surroundings. Perhaps I had eaten some bad meat. Or maybe I was still dreaming.

After a moment I stood and stretched to remove the kink from my neck. Shoving my bedroll inside my tent, I moved about outside to cover what might have remained of my fire in dirt. I had, of course, forgotten my shovel so used my hands instead. I had never been afraid of getting dirty and made no bones about being certain that the fire was out.

By the time I was tucked inside my sleeping bag, I had almost completely forgotten about the bird that wasn't.

The second time I awoke was not to the sound of screeching, but to the sound of feet. Quite a few pairs; they lumbered and jumped, skid and slid.

And then my tent was slashed, the long silver culprit barely inches from my head.

I screeched, of course. And did the only rational thing I could do – move as far away in the tent as I could from the bloody, grotesque face that was now gleaming at me from the growing hole in the side of my tent.

I wasn't particularly weak but I wasn't trained in hand to hand combat or even very good with a kick. And this thing, staring at me, looked as though it had fallen into a fire and then been dipped in acid. Or something. And it reeked. It was currently scrambling against the side of my tent, trying to force its way into my personal space.

I moved again and my hand settled on one of my arrows; my bow was nowhere in sight but it was good enough; probably better. I wouldn't have been able to use it seated anyhow. If I could just get my arm in there without getting swiped by the butcher-knife looking thing, I could at least distract it with pain.

I don't know that I was actually thinking clearly as I jammed my hand out, stabbing the tip of my arrow into the deformed man's eye. But it was effective enough to make the thing scream and reel back, getting it far enough away from me for me to bolt out of my tent. I didn't look back; my bow, my tent, my bedroll, my backpack. When I found a police officer, I'd figure it out. But for that moment, the only thing that mattered was getting the hell away from the footsteps behind me.


	2. Fenced In

I ran as fast and as far as I could; I was only slightly athletic, in the way that I played sports with some friends and rode my bike around campus. I slowed to a jog when I couldn't hear the snorts or lumbering footsteps behind me any longer and then finally to a walk when I saw what appeared to be a tall, wooden-spiked fence. It hadn't been there before, that I knew of, but it could have been built without my knowing. I hadn't been camping in too long, especially not there. I wasn't sure why it was wood and not metal, not a chain-link, but it didn't matter. I was too worried about finding the gate. I couldn't see over it – it was probably twenty feet tall. Some of the logs were full, as if they were entire trees. Some of them were spliced, a trunk here and a heavy branch there. It seemed solid enough, but there was definitely no climbing it. Not for me, anyway.

I walked along it, looking over my shoulder every few seconds to make absolutely sure that whatever had been following me earlier wasn't on my heels. It took me quite a while to find anything that looked like a door, although I began to hear noises from the other side. Voices, clinking, barking. It boded well for me, or so I thought.

I tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Excuse me?" I called, frowning as I tugged and pushed. "Is there anyone over there?"

Half a moment later, the door opened a little. A man in some kind of ancient army get-up, complete with metal studs on his leather-covered torso, stood between me and what looked like some kind of war reenactment camp. "What in the name of the Maker are you doin' out there, girl?"

"...Uhm," I responded, raising an eyebrow as he pulled me in and closed the gate behind me. That's me, the quick-thinker.

"Don't just stand there, girl. Go find your master and get back to work, we don't have time for this."

And he pushed me.

Master?

I didn't know what he was talking about, not at all, but he didn't seem to want to explain in the least. I walked in the direction he pushed and stopped after only a few feet.

This certainly wasn't in the park the last time I'd been there. I was surrounded by ruins of some sort, columns toppled over one another and grand stone archways half crumpled to the ground. I wandered through the encampment, the smells and the sights becoming ever more disorienting as I made my way into the crowd of people, some of whom turned to look at me but none of whom stopped to speak to me.

I was rather proud of myself for not fainting until I saw the four people standing in a square, with something that looked like electricity shooting out of the hands.

"Dear? Are you all right?"

The voice was thick, or maybe it was my hearing. It sounded far away, faint. I blinked several times, my vision blurry and an ache starting in the back of my head. A woman with white hair knelt beside me, a hand gentle on my forehead.

"I...Yes. I think so. My head hurts a little, but I think I'm fine. What- what was going on? Those people-"

The woman's eyes narrowed a little in what I think was curiosity and concern and she sat back slightly. "Do you mean the mages over there?"

"M-mages?"

"You don't look like a dwarf," the woman murmured, watching me curiously, eyes scanning me as if I were a foreign object. "Have you never seen a mage before?"

"Uh...No," I responded, impressed by her dedication to the character she was playing. "I can't say I have."

"Did you come far?" she asked as she helped me to stand, surprisingly spry for her apparent age. She was kind, helping me dust off a little despite the fact that I knew there was dirt everywhere.

"I was camped in the woods," I started and her surprise took me again.

"By yourself?" Her face was kind but her eyes were curious, if not concerned.

"Well, yes."

She spoke to herself, something about "wilder" but I couldn't hear most of it. "What brings you to us, then?"

"There was a...man? Or a creature," I shook my head, frowning a little. I probably sounded crazy – but maybe they were a part of this reenactment. Maybe it was some sort of robot thing. Or a person.

And then I remembered that I had stabbed a person in the eye. "Oh. Oh my. You don't know of any men in the woods, do you?"

"There are a few scouting parties. Why?"

"The thing that attacked my tent...I stabbed it in the eye. And ran. I don't...don't know if I killed it or not."

"What did it look like, dear?"

"Gross," I responded, making a face. I could feel the blood draining from my face. Had I killed a man? "It didn't look quite like a man, but you could see similar qualities – two feet, two arms. Its facial features were very distorted, but you could tell they kind of looked like a man's."

"...Child, that is a darkspawn."

Darkspawn?

Okay. Well, she wasn't freaked out that I had stabbed it. So it couldn't be a person. I wasn't a murderer.

"What...what's that?"

No longer surprised by my questions, I think, the woman spun a tale of heaven and sinners, an angry god and curses. Which ended with commentary on mages – which, it appeared, that this woman was. She was, after all, in the same type of dress as those others I had seen before collapsing.

"My name is Wynne, what is yours?"

"Gwen. It's..." I hesitated only a little before offering her my hand to shake, "It's a pleasure, Wynne. Thank you for helping me."

"Of course, dear." She looked at me with a faint smile for a long moment before she asked, "Will you be going into battle?"

Battle? Me? But I imagined 'no' wasn't an option so I merely nodded, "And you?"

"Not too into the fray. My particular specialties are more defensive."

Mine too, I thought, Like running. Far, far away.

"I should be going. Like I said, it was nice to see you. I hope I have the chance to do so again."

I didn't have time to question my change of word use, the odd cadence to my speech. I turned away from Wynne and almost directly into a solid wall. Or, a mostly solid wall of soldier.

"Oh...Are you all right there, girl?" Hands steadied me at the shoulders as the low voice questioned me.

"Y...yes," I responded quietly, looking up into a scruff-covered face. He was handsome, there was no question about that; his hair was dark, a reddish color. And he was tall. I was a little taller than most women, a few inches taller than almost all of the girls I hung around with. But he was broad-shouldered and even taller than I was, body encased in metal armor with a shield and sword strapped to his back. It all looked so very heavy. I could only imagine the sheer amount of muscle underneath that armor.

More than all of that, though, his face looked sad. His eyes were dark, although the color was a blue-gray and his lips were drawn despite the charming smile he offered me. There were lines near his eyes, not necessarily denoting age so much as recent experience. I wasn't entirely unfamiliar with that sort of look.

"Are you a Grey Warden?" He asked curiously, removing his hands from my body as he started walking. By speaking to me, I assumed he was inviting me to join him. So I did.

"No, are you?"

"Not yet," he responded with a sideways smile. "Is that why you're here too?"

"No, I was camping in the woods. I was set upon by darkspawn and left everything behind in my tent, including my bow. I was hoping I could accompany the next party to leave so that I might retrieve it."

"Did you happen to run into any scouting parties?" he asked, hope lightly lacing his words, as he led me up a stone ramp. The building we were entering looked as though it could collapse any minute.

"Not humans," I responded and immediately wished I hadn't upon seeing the look that crossed his face. "But I wasn't really looking for anyone until I found the fence around the encampment. I was mostly focused on getting away."

"Was that your first, then? I hadn't fought any until Duncan and I came this way."

"I'd never even seen one. Didn't rightly know what it was."

"I can't say I was much better the first time I saw one, either. Didn't even kill it; Duncan had to. It was just...too much."

"Creep slashed open my tent and started trying to climb its way in."

"Didn't your guard save you?" He asked in earnest, looking over my stature.

"I was traveling alone. I prefer the quiet."

"But have you not heard of the army amassing here at Ostagar to defeat the horde?" His face held a curious, if slightly disbelieving, look at my revelation.

"...No, I had not heard. I have been...traveling for some time and haven't had the benefit of meeting anyone on the road lately. Although I would have liked the warning," I smiled a little, although I quieted when we approached two men on a broad stone landing.

One was tall, taller even than the man at my side and also covered in metal armor with a sword and shield across his back. His hair was light even in the shadows and his skin was tan, the kind of gold that came from being outside often. He was also quite handsome, a strong jaw and eyes blue enough to be seen from my position several feet away. The other man was short and looked as though he spent no time at all outside, both by his shape and his skin tone. He was wearing a similar outfit to Wynne, something that could only be described as "robes". The latter man, after a few heated comments, stormed off in our direction and narrowly missed running directly into me. The dark-haired man that had made me his walking companion pulled me out of the way just in time. I stumbled a little as we moved towards the blond man.

"You must be the new recruit that Duncan went to collect. Aedan, right? He wrote ahead about you. And you – who are you?" He sounded curious, not accusatory. His eyes did what everyone else's had done, although he seemed particularly interested in my clothing.

"My name is Gwen. What's yours?" People didn't seem to interested in last names here.

"Alistair," he responded with a lopsided grin. "Now that our introductions are out of the way – say, would you like some armor? Unless you're a mage. You aren't a mage, aren't you?"

"No...no, not that I know of. But I don't have any money for armor."

"Well, we can talk to Duncan about that I think." The look he gave me was a pleasant one, the kind of look that suggested he really did want to help me. Aedan and Alistair then spoke a little before we went off to find this Duncan fellow, waiting for me to fall in step between them before walking back across the camp.


	3. Path Through the Trees

Duncan seemed the most intrigued but the least forth-coming with questions when we were introduced. He, after some convincing being done on my behalf, agreed to allow me the use of some spare Grey Warden armor. They were, according to Alistair, this ancient group of warriors with one specific purpose. To end the Blight.

The Blight was this giant get-together of those creepy things that attacked my tent, plus a dragon.

At Alistair's mention of a dragon, I remembered the giant bird-like thing that had flown above my tent the night before. Not sure what to say or how to say it, I waited until we had completed the arduous process of dressing me in armor that was more like a medieval torture devise than protection.

Aedan, upon seeing me emerge, laughed a little. He lifted his hands and asked, "May I?" I nodded vehemently and he adjusted things I had thoroughly botched up.

"I have...had a little sister," Aedan frowned, his fingers pausing a moment before he shook his head and resumed. "She never could get all the buckles right. And..there."

He stepped back and we shared an uncomfortable look, the darkness and the tightness back on his face. Alistair cleared his throat and said we should get back to Duncan.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly to the dark-haired man that walked beside him. He acknowledged me with a tight nod but no one said anything until we reached the older Warden.

There was this thing, the Joining, that these three men were supposed to go through that I was, apparently, interrupting. After excusing the men to gather supplies, Duncan turned to face me.

"You are a long way from home, are you not?"

I almost laughed at the irony of his statement. I was beginning to think I was a long, long ways away. Just how, I wasn't sure. Maybe I was dreaming, but everything felt rather real. Especially the fear.

"Yes...Yes I am. I don't think...you would recognize the name."

"It is of little consequence, in all honesty. I would like to offer you...an opportunity."

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I was pretty certain I knew what he was going to say but I was entirely uncertain of how I would respond.

"Wait," I started, "before you say what you plan on, let me tell you something. I didn't tell Alistair or Aedan everything. I had forgotten something. Last night, I saw something in the sky. I thought it was a bird, or I convinced myself it was. But...Alistair mentioned an Archdemon? Like a dragon?"

Duncan's face turned to pensive stone and he lifted a hand to scratch his hair-covered chin, his dark eyes boring into me. "If what you say is true, then so is what I have feared. This...does not change what I was going to offer you, however. I would like you to accompany the others, as we talked about. If you find yourself...amenable to the idea of helping us, I would like you to think about joining the Grey Wardens upon your return."

Well, that was...exactly what I had been expecting but still a major surprise. I am sure I looked ridiculous, as my mouth was open and my eyes wide. He smiled, only slightly, as he waited for me to nod a little.

"I...I will think about it, Duncan. Thank you...for all of your help," I murmured. He held his hand out with a glass vial in it, the stopper made of wax and paper. These people had to be really, really into this reenactment thing or something was really, really wrong.

"Give that to Alistair. He'll know what to do with it."

I nodded again and turned away, moving in the direction that Alistair and the rest of the company had gone.

Alistair had given me a bow made out of a wood I didn't recognize, not that I was an expert or anything, and a quiver of arrows. It was so old school I wasn't sure I could fire them straight at all. I wasn't so concerned about not hitting the bad guys as I was worried about hitting one of those I was traveling with. Alistair looked at me hard the moment I gave him the empty vial, but it broke into a smile after none too long.

We were barely out in the place they called the Korcari Wilds when we found a man, bleeding, on the ground with half a dozen bodies decimated around us. I knelt beside him quickly, unsure of what to do. I had little to no first aid knowledge, in that place or anywhere else.

"Sir? Can you hear me?"

"...They," he coughed, leaning up a little. He rested his head on my leather-covered legs, pain etched on every feature, "came out of nowhere...Ambushed us. My scouting party..."

At the word 'scouting', Aedan was practically on top of me, looking down at the man's face. He did not press him, but his eyes scanned the features of the men in the dirt. His face had lost almost all of its color, but he remained steadfast.

We bandaged him up and watched him limp the short way back to camp. This shook up everyone, but mostly Jory, who started rambling about our safety.

"I doubt Duncan would risk our lives," I spoke, not knowing why. The words just came, defending a man I had known for under an hour. My speech sounded weird; my words were forming oddly. They still sounded like me, but just a little different.

Alistair watched me curiously, but spoke to Jory. "It's true. Wardens have...talents. That's why I am with you. I promise, they won't sneak up on us."

We continued on and found a flower that Daveth pointed out as being important to the houndmaster or something. It was a long, arduous journey. We discovered dead missionaries, darkspawn that could cast spells, a demon unlike anything I had ever seen, and so much blood.

I was pulling an arrow out of the back of a darkspawn that I had, thankfully, taken down before it could take a chunk out of Aedan as we came upon my tent. Or what I thought had been my tent. It was now just shredded fabric spread in a small circle around where my firepit had been. My backpack and bedroll were no worse for wear, although they looked little like what I had left behind. They were made of some odd, scratchy material and looked every bit like something one of the men in my company would have owned.

"It looks as though you were lucky," Aedan spoke, helping me dig through the scraps of my tent to find my bow. Once I found it, I lifted it up and frowned deeply.

"My bow, however, was not." One of the creatures had snapped it in half, probably from walking over it. It didn't look like the weapon I had used before, either. Shorter, thinner, lighter. I shook my head a little as I stared down at it across my lap. After a moment, I shook myself from my thoughts and managed to find a few errant arrows that hadn't been crushed.

As we doubled back to follow the path that would lead to the final leg of our errand journey, Aedan slowed his pace to walk beside me. "My sister, her name was Elissa. She preferred a bow too. You...you look like her, a little."

I found that hard to believe; our heights were where our similarities ended. Aedan was broad where I was thin, his skin dark and mine so pale it was already burning without sunscreen after few hours we had spent walking about. His hair, though dark, was more red where mine was brown. But the man was obviously hurting; who was I to question his memories? In fact, I didn't know much of what to say to that.

"She was the youngest. Only nineteen."

A year younger than me.

"She was going to be betrothed, they were planning the party actually. Our oldest brother, Fergus, was married. A s..." He paused and clenched his jaw. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and started again. "..A son, Oren."

I did the only thing I could think of; it was probably inappropriate and probably way out of line, but I reached my uncovered hand over to gently touch his armor covered-shoulder. I didn't say anything because I didn't have anything to say.

We stopped, a few feet behind the rest of the group, and he looked at me with those red-rimmed gray-blue eyes for a long moment. My hand had long-since fallen back to my side and it was everything I could do to not look away. He looked so desperately lost.

"Thank you," he spoke, unbidden, and rolled his shoulders a little. "I haven't...there hasn't been anyone to listen."

"I like to listen," I spoke, finally, as we turned to catch up with the others.

Alistair turned around to look at where we were just as a very large, very scary-looking darkspawn lifted an axe.

"Duck! Or...something," I squeaked, an arrow already knocked. It barely zoomed over Alistair's head as he moved out of the way, bouncing off of the darkspawn's armor. "Shit."

I wasn't very good, at least not by my own estimation. Better than I would be with a sword; I couldn't even imagine lifting one, let alone swinging it with any accuracy.

It was a long battle, probably the longest so far. My arrows were scattered everywhere, more in the ground than in darkspawn to my chagrin. I had, somehow, managed to take one down with two very well-placed shots. I think I was aiming for the one next to it, in all honesty.

I had already hit my arm with the bowstring twice, causing a lovely little welt to form on the inside of my right forearm. Being left-handed was the least of my worries, though Daveth did say something about being a better shot if I used it right. Trying to explain was too difficult, so I just proved him wrong by showing him.

After foraging through the dead - mostly Daveth, although Alistair reccommended it also. I couldn't bring myself to do it, the smell nearly had me choking when I was feet away let alone right up in there – we moved forward towards the ruins.

Only to discover that the treaties we had been sent to retrieve were gone.

"Wild goose chase," Jory grumbled, crossing his arms in frustration.

"You do not look like geese to me. Perhaps vultures," a voice, a woman's voice, spoke from somewhere behind us. Everyone turned at the same time and Alistair warned against getting too close.

I was too close to pretty much everything at that point.

The woman's name was Morrigan; she was dressed like a party girl, plus a few hundred feathers. She was...odd. Not rude, necessarily. But still and formal, without being polite. Blunt, too. But not unpleasant. And she was going to lead us to her mother, whom apparently had the treaties that we needed to retrieve.

It took us only a short while to reach the decrepit hut in the middle of the Wilds and the wizened old woman that stood outside it.

I felt a chill course down my spine as she turned her eyes and her speech to me.

"You..." She paused, taking another step closer. She shook her head and let out a laugh. I couldn't breathe, for fear of what she might say.

"We are quite lucky," she murmured, to no one in particular, before waving off my existence. "But I suppose you are here for those Grey Warden treaties?"

After a little more banter and a lot more nervous twitching (pretty much everyone, except the 'witches'), we were headed back to the encampment with little incident.

Daveth and Jory bickered behind me as I moved to walk between Alistair and Aedan. Aedan had moved up to ask Alistair a question, something I had only heard the end of. I didn't mind walking by myself, but would rather their company than the other two.

"So, Alistair, how long have you been a Warden?"

"A little less than a year," he responded easily, knocking lightly on the wood of the fence as they came upon it.

The door opened and they continued in, moving towards where Duncan had said he would wait.

"Oh...Oh, just one moment, that flower for the dog," I spoke and moved towards the kennel that Daveth had explained to me.

"Aedan, go with the others and let Duncan know we'll be right over," Alistair nodded in the direction that we needed to go, moving with me in the opposite one.

"I could have found it on my own," I laughed a little, glancing up to see the fire dancing in the blond hair on Alistair's head.

"I wanted to...Gwen, I know you're unsure of yourself," he slowed to a stop, a few paces away from the dogs. "But I think...I think it would be nice to have you with us. It isn't always a warrior's weapons that serve the Wardens best."

I watched him for sincerity and it all but radiated off of him. His blue eyes, despite the darkness of the coming night, were bright in the fire of the campground torches. I nodded a little, not sure what to say. I approached the kennel and the man that watched the dogs, offering him the flower. He thanked me and I turned back to my companion.

I was either dreaming, in some weird reenactment that I still couldn't place, or very lost. Very, very lost.

What, honestly, did I have to lose?

"Thank you, Alistair," I smiled at him from the side as we made our way back to Duncan.

"What for?"

"Making my decision."

"And what, pray tell, did you decide?"

"I think..." I hesitated a little as we came to stop in front of Duncan and the other men, "I would like to join the Grey Wardens."


	4. Toppled Towers or Not Quite Kansas

I almost immediately came to regret my rash decision to join a once-prestigious class of warrior.

Wait, what?

Okay, this place was getting to my head. After I agreed to join, Duncan and Alistair led the four non-Wardens to a secluded, demolished corner of a once-great building.

Then there was this cup. Big, gold-looking goblet of a cup. And I could smell it all the way across the space we took up.

And then that whole impending-doom thing. There was a lovely speech - "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice." resounded in my head.

Sounded like a good idea for a tattoo, but I doubted I'd be stumbling on any shops any time soon.

Daveth went down. And didn't come up again. Jory did not like that, not one bit. He spoke about how it wasn't fair, how he had a pregnant wife – how they should have told him.

I was really beginning to question the reenactment theory as Duncan shoved his dagger into Jory's stomach. Probably under the ribs, actually. I jumped at the action, but managed not to scream. I thought it was kind of a waste; sure, he knew the secrets. But was that really necessary?

And then, it was Aedan's turn. I was taken by surprise when I felt a warm, dry hand squeeze mine briefly before Aedan's grasp shifted to the cup that he was meant to drink from. I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit or for his, but I appreciated the gesture either way.

His knees buckled and his eyes rolled back. I moved without thinking and caught him before his head could slap against the old stone. I laid his head down and saw that his chest still rose and fell.

"He will live," Duncan breathed a sigh of relief and Alistair grinned.

"And now, Gwen," Duncan spoke and Alistair's face fell again, growing somber as the elder Warden approached me with the cup he had managed to catch before anyone dropped. I straightened up and dusted my hands against the leather of my skirt, reaching out to take the cup from him. I watched him over the rim and he didn't look the least bit concerned, despite the fact that my hands were shaking so much the liquid – blood. Darkspawn blood – was rippled at the surface.

Grotesque does not begin to describe the taste that flooded my mouth as I took back a heavy gulp. In addition to the liquid version of the smell I had been subjected to since waking up that day, it burned. It burned like whiskey on fire, felt like it could leave blisters wherever it touched.

And then the world went black.

The dragon was back, screaming in my head. Images of things I didn't understand haunted me – I couldn't see my limbs, I couldn't feel my fingers or my toes. It felt like the only part of my that existed were my eyes, tenuously connected to my brain.

And then I sat up, waking with a start, as I gasped for breath. I thought I was going to vomit and I wanted desperately to brush my teeth.

Alistair and Aedan stood on either side of me and I couldn't tell who looked more relieved to see me open my eyes again.

Duncan, though, seemed not the least bit surprised. "I have a meeting with the King. Aedan, I would like you to come with me. If I am not mistaken, you are well schooled in military tactics."

Aedan seemed to be ignoring him while he spoke, watching me with a concerned expression. When Duncan finished speaking, however, the man that found his sister in me left me with Alistair and headed down the stone ramp behind the elder Warden.

He was a Warden, Aedan. And so was I. I was alive, on a stone floor, with darkspawn blood being absorbed into my veins.

Gwen the Grey Warden. Huh.

I must have been smiling, because Alistair's face held one too as he helped me stand. "Good dreams, then?"

"Oh...no, definitely not. Big ol' dragon, bunch of darkspawn. Pounding headache."

"Then why the smile?" he asked curiously, helping me retrieve my discarded bow. I noticed that neither Daveth's nor Jory's bodies were anywhere to be seen.

"Just...find it kind of odd, being a Grey Warden. I've never really been...a part of anything before. Certainly not so mystical group of superior warriors. Or something like that." That and the fact that I was in the middle of a dream-place full of people with British accents and dragons. Or something.

"It's nice," he responded, leading me away from the ritual site and back to the large bonfire that we had used as a meeting place all day, to wait for Aedan and Duncan to return from their council with the king. "I was a part of the Order before – templars, you know. It was never right with the Chantry. Not for me, anyway. But the Wardens – they're family."

I nodded when he spoke like I knew what any of the words meant. As we walked, he started to tell me a story about his recruitment. A lot of the words made sense, but references to things specific in this land I locked away in my mind so that I could learn more about my surroundings. I had the distinct suspicion I wasn't going to be waking up any time soon. Maybe I was in a coma.

"So I never asked you where you were from," Alistair murmured as we reached the remains of the building that surrounded the bonfire.

"No where, really. Everywhere. Just kind of...am," I replied, trying to avoid specifics. "Kind of a wanderer."

"What about your family?" he asked, a little tentatively. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the fire, the light from his flames dancing along Alistair's polished armor and handsome face. It was an impressive face, did I mention that?

"Raised by dogs," I responded, laughing. That might have been a little mean, but considering the state of my relationship with my family wherever they were, it worked just fine.

"Really? Me too," he snorted a little, chuckling as he turned to look at me. "Before the Chantry, of course. Now we have something else in common."

"We're both Grey Wardens, we were both raised by dogs, annnddd...?"

"Annnnddd...well," Alistair paused, tapping his chin. "I'm sure we'll find other things. We have plenty of travel time, you know."

"Maybe we will," I smiled back at him as Duncan and Aedan found us. They looked, especially Aedan, far more somber than Alistair and I. They explained Callian's and Loghain's thoughts on our part in the coming battle.

Alistair was, to say the least, unhappy about the revelation. The three of us, along with Aedan's dog (a mabari, he said), would climb the tower on the other side of the bridge and light a beacon to signal to Loghain's men to join the army on the field.

"Seems about as effective as dancing the remigold in front of the darkspawn line," Alistair muttered, rolling his eyes a little.

Although I did not know what the remigold was, I decided it made sense to try and lighten the mood. "You know, if all four of us – Mather included, of course – did that, we might actually be able to distract them long enough-"

Duncan silenced me with a look, but Alistair was smiling and Aedan's lips were curved up a little.

"This is very important," Duncan spoke, still watching me. I frowned a little; it didn't make sense, though. Mages could shoot flame or lightening, or make it rain. Some of them, anyway. So why not just have a bunch of them shoot up fire into the air and not take us off the front lines?

But I'm sure there was a perfectly valid reason why that wasn't an option. Like magicism. Or whatever hatred of magic is called. They probably didn't even have a name for it, because it was so commonplace. I made a face, thinking about it. During my musing, Duncan had finished talk and Aedan and Alistair were waiting for me to follow them.

"We have a few hours before the attack is set, it would be best for us to get some sleep if we can. And collect supplies."

Sleep sounded lovely.

\-------

When we all finally woke up again – Alistair was waiting for both Aedan and I – the sun was barely setting. I startled first, images of darkspawn dancing in my head. Aedan jumped beside me, his hand finding mine. I smiled at him and squeezed gently before we all stood, stretching. As we were righting ourselves, the army still amassing so we were not hurried, I tried to strap my pack and my quiver on. I lifted my bow, but I knew I wouldn't be able to draw arrows very well. I frowned and removed everything again.

"Do either of you have a dagger I might borrow for a moment?" I frowned, setting my pack on the ground. I would need to buy arrows – I wondered if the Grey Wardens had a stash.

Alistair removed a small dagger from within his boot – it looked like a paring knife – and offered it to me daintily. "It's my cheese knife."

"In your boot?" I laughed, cutting the straps on my backpack so that I would be able to tie it around my waist instead of drape it over my back.

"I have to keep it somewhere, don't I?"

"I take it cheese is a very important staple in your diet?" Aedan asked, amusement curving his lips.

"I would eat nothing else if I had the chance," Alistair responded emphatically, grinning as he tucked his knife away.

"I imagine you would have a particularly awful stomach ache if all you ate was cheese." I spoke, smiling, as I opened my pack to organize its contents.

Alistair watched me curiously but said nothing else as the men readied themselves for battle. As I dug through my pack, I realized that it wasn't just the outside that had changed. When I went camping, I had brought with me both deodorant and toilet paper in addition to my change of clothes. When I pulled everything out to move it around, I found an oddly shaped bar of very scary-looking soap. My skin was going to be decimated, between the sun and this bar of soap. Instead of my toilet paper, I found a stack of well-preserved leaves. I thought I was going to die. My clothes were simple, made of the same somewhat scratchy material as the shirt that Alistair had given me to wear beneath my armor and two pieces of fabric I can only imagine were meant to be underthings.

No razor. No deodorant. No tooth brush. No toilet paper. Leaves! Leaves!

I must have had one hell of a look on my face, because both Aedan and Alistair said, "What's wrong?" in chorus.

I shook my head, dropping my pack. I feigned a weak smile, taking in a deep breath as I situated everything in its place. "N...nothing. Thought I had misplaced something, but I found it."

"Oh, good. Well – do you have any healing potions? We should take some with us. And you should probably take one now. Your skin looks like it could use some." Alistair asked as he moved over to a crate on the far side of the tent, pulling up a several vials.

"No, I don't have any," I took the vials he offered to me and tucked a few into my pack as he gestured before holding one in my hands. It was mostly full of a purple-red liquid that sparkled without any help from the dying sunlight. I tried to pry the cork off with my fingers but it wouldn't work. Aedan chuckled at my struggle and took the vial gently from me before lifting it to his mouth and biting off the stopper. He handed it back to me and, after inspecting it a little while longer, I tipped my head back and the vial with it.

It was sweet, at first. As it slid down my throat, it tingled. And then my skin began to tickle, my cheeks and arms especially. It only lasted a brief second and it was over. Alistair took the vial back and set it into another crate.

Magic. It had to be magic. And I liked it. I felt brilliant, like I had just had the best night's sleep and a good meal. I reached down to retrieve my pack, tied it in place, and followed my companions out into the night.

"...Maker, help us. There wasn't supposed to be any resistance!" Alistair hissed as we pressed our way through the Tower of Ishal. We had already come to blows with scores of darkspawn, between the tower grounds and the first floor.

"Well, then we will just have to take them out quickly, won't we?" Aedan responded with his charming smile, lifting his shield in front of him and raising his sword.

"...We could tell them they're in the wrong place?" I laughed nervously, knocking an arrow and walking forward as quietly as I could behind the other two.

Alistair had to try to swallow his laughter, raising his shield and sword along with Aedan, whom snorted at my comment and shook his head a little.

And on we went.

We made it. Finally, beaten and battered with a potentially broken rib or three among us, we made it to the door. Alistair stepped forward, kicking it in.

And I wanted to run. I wanted to run far, far away. Darkspawn were one thing – they were terrifying, yes. But man-sized. I was in no way, shape, or form prepared for the sight of a creature tearing the head off of a soldier. It was humungous – at least ten feet tall and almost as wide, with a face that haunted the nightmares of children. Its teeth alone were enough to make me nearly wet myself.

I stood and stared dumbly from a few feet into the room as the ogre – that was what it was, of course – charged. Alistair returned the favor but Aedan, seeing that I hadn't budged, screamed my name. Mather's teeth clamped down on the edge of my leather skirt I tugged me out of the way, just as the ogre ran through where I would have been. I crashed to the ground, my bow clattering beside me.

The ogre turned, practically foaming at the mouth, and swiped at Alistair as he attempted to get a hit on it. It knocked him to the ground and turned its attention back to me.

I grabbed my bow and stood, faster than I knew I could, before running clear across the room. It followed me – until, of course, Aedan slashed his sword across its arm. It turned and lashed out as I raised my bow and found an arrow. Mather had left me for Aedan's side, dodging around the ogre's feet as Alistair moved to help.

I shot at the creature's back, thankfully hitting somewhere near my intended target. I seemed to do little more than annoy it, but I distracted it enough that it missed Aedan's head.

"Its legs!" I screamed, already aiming another arrow for the beast that would soon be charging. "Take out its legs!"

It made sense. It wouldn't be able to move as much if we hacked its legs to bits. So, as I fired arrow after useless arrow at it to keep its mind on me – it was getting closer, too close – Alistair, Aedan, and Mather slashed, stabbed, and mauled the creature's knees and down.

I waited until the last moment to run to the side, trying to escape a snatching hand. It was a narrow escape, a hand as big as my body caused the stones behind me to shake. I lost my footing and rolled, not very gracefully, in a direction I had no control over. But the beast had missed me.

While I was trying to get my bearings and my feet organized, I heard a roar unlike any other sound I had ever heard. When I had righted myself again, I saw the ogre favoring one leg as it turned to bestow its anger upon my companions.

I saw it reaching out for Alistair and I fired, over and over, at its still-good knee. I landed enough arrows in the right place to cause it to crash down. Unfortunately, its hand was already moving for Alistair. When it fell, its hand took Alistair with him. Aedan was on it immediately, hacking away at the hand that pressed Alistair into the stone floor.

My heart was pounding and my soul was split; I was frozen for a moment, watching the scene before me. Mather was still dodging around the beast, gnawing where he could for as long as he could manage before the ogre turned on him. Aedan was trying his best to cut the offending hand off without getting caught himself and Alistair was struggling to get purchase on his sword, which was just barely out of his reach.

"It's just a big darkspawn," I breathed, dropping my bow as I moved in closer. I searched for anything pointy and came upon a long dagger, not quite a sword, left behind by an unfortunate soldier. Or a dead darkspawn. It didn't matter. What did matter was that I found it, held it in both hands, and did quite possibly the stupidest thing I had ever done to that point in my life.

I was at the beast's side, the opposite one to Aedan and Alistair, and took a running jump to land on its back, between its shoulder blades. It made an odd sound, somewhere between letting out a breath and another roar. It jerked beneath me and I did the only thing that made sense – I jammed the not-sword where I was and held on for dear life as it pushed itself up with its one remaining, working limb.

The ogre let out a thundering scream as I, and the dagger, slid down its back. My hands were loosening and I couldn't hold on until the end; I dropped and fell, landing hard on my back with the wind knocked out of me. I couldn't tell you what happened next, partially because I was behind the beast and partially because I ended up beneath it.

I was pretty confident that I was broken in more than one place after the ogre fell back on me, blood and weight choking me as I wriggled and writhed. It hurt; everything hurt. I thought I was dying and then -

"Gwen? Gwen, are you under there?" Alistair called, his footsteps somewhere I couldn't place.

I let out a scream – it seemed like the most effective response.

"Push!" Aedan commanded. I can only imagine they were trying to roll the beast off of me from the shoulder. It seemed to take forever, but eventually I was lying, covered in blood but nothing else.

"Maker, Gwen, that was quite a – Gwen? Andraste's breath, is that your bone?" Alistair's face paled, his eyes alighting on my arm.

Aedan was busy finding one of his healing potions and pulling the top off before he gently tipped my chin down and poured it into my mouth. I sputtered at first, choking a little, before I was able to swallow.

"This is going to hurt," Aedan spoke, his face closer to me. I didn't know what could hurt more than my entire body at that moment but, after his hands found my arm, I discovered the answer. A jerk, a push – I was screaming from the second his hands moved – and I knew I was crying. My tears mingled with blood, all of which I hoped was not my own, and the mix of it all burned my eyes. But my arm, my shoulder - that was what made me wished I was dead.

"Take another one," Alistair offered another vial to Aedan, who repeated the previous process.

"Alistair," I hissed after swallowing the second potion, everything feeling a little less full of indescribable pain, "Light...the..beacon..."

He did so, rather immediately, as Aedan helped me to sit and eventually stand. After Alistair lit the beacon and I was standing again, although a little wobbly, the three of us gathered our things and moved to make our way out of the tower and back to the grounds to join the fray.

We didn't even make it to the doorway as it quickly became flooded with darkspawn. They were pushing, clawing, jumping to make their way in and surround us. I tried to move back so that I would be able to shoot but it was useless – their own archers, with crossbows, made quick work of me. I heard both men yell my name before I went down, Alistair not far behind.

I'm pretty sure I died. I can't say for certain, because I'm not really sure what dying feels like, but I'm pretty sure. When my eyes finally opened again, I didn't feel a bit different. Aside from a little groggy, I thought nothing had happened. I was half-expecting to wake up inside my tent like it was all the dream I had originally thought it was.

And then, the woman dressed for clubbing, spoke from across an unfamiliar room. The bed was hard, the blanket scratchy. I was mostly naked, save for a band around my chest and something like underwear. The woman, Morrigan, watched me curiously as I sat myself up.

"Good, you are awake. Mother will be pleased. Your friends are outside, pacing no doubt."

"...How...how did I get here? The last thing I remember was... a lot of darkspawn."

"Mother saved you and brought you here."

"Thank you...for helping me."

"I did little. My healing magic is nothing like Mother's."

"Well, thank you anyway."

Morrigan seemed surprised a little but it did not last long. She brought over my armor and other things, setting them at the foot of the bed. "The others – the man that was to aid the King's army quit the field. It appears that everyone is dead."

I stopped mid-motion, reaching for the leather armor that had no signs of the battle I had been fighting in. I felt frozen in place and time, as if my heart had stopped.

Everyone is dead. Dream or not, that was...awful. These people had been people, even in my imagination. And I was seriously beginning to question my dream theory. I had no clue what else it could be, but the hurt from the last waking moments I had was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

"I..." I started, propelling myself forward to dress quickly. Alistair and Aedan, they had to be worried. Or at least concerned, from what Morrigan had said. "Thank you for telling me. I..should go outside."

When I opened the door, four heads turned to look at me. The old witch, both men, and Mather all watched me. Mather moved to nuzzle my leg and Aedan and Alistair both let out heavy sighs. The witch merely shook her head with a small smile, "And here she is. I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"Thank you," I said, turning immediately to the woman. "Thank you for...saving us."

"Your journey was not nearly at its end, child. I was merely helping it along," she responded in her odd tone, watching me with eyes older even than her visually apparent age.

"Dead," Alistair spoke, sullen, watching me. "They're all dead, Gwen. Duncan. The King."

Aedan looked white as a sheet, jaw clenched tight and fists at his side. "It's...it's over."

The witch shook her head, "Hardly. You three are Grey Wardens, are you not?"

"Well...yes, I suppose. But Aedan and I, we've only been Wardens for hours."

"Several days, in fact," the woman corrected.

"Still, what do you propose we do?" Aedan spoke gruffly, seemingly unimpressed.

"Be," was her only response.

Alistair looked as though he wanted to hit her, "But we don't know...We'd need an army."

"Wait," I paused, digging into my pack. "You gave me these to hold on to, the treaties."

Aedan, still looking a little skeptical, spoke sarcastically. "And do you think it's really that easy to build an army, Gwen?"

"I think it might be," the woman spoke, watching me still.

"So we just...go to all of these places, raising an army to fight the Blight?" I sounded ridiculous. I felt ridiculous. But she was...right.

Aedan threw his hands in the air and took a few steps away from us. Mather looked at me for a long moment before he trotted over to his master. I followed, leaving Alistair with the witch.

"Aedan-"

"This is impossible," he groaned, running his hand over his face. "We can't just expect-"

"What else are we going to do?" I asked tentatively. "We can't just sit here and wait for the darkspawn to overrun this land."

I felt a little woozy; the words ran together in my head, images dancing. There was a pulling sensation, an odd sort of connection that buzzed in my head. At first I was unsure, but I realized after a moment that I was being pulled, metaphorically, towards Aedan and Alistair. It was faint and made me feel more than a little sick. I bent at the waist, clutching my stomach. Aedan frowned and moved to stand beside me, putting his hand on my back.

"Are you all right? Witch! What did you do to her?" Aedan spoke quietly at first and then angrily over to the woman that had saved our lives.

"I would watch whom you call names, young man," the woman responded, the tone in her voice more amused than angry. "My name is Flemeth, if you must call me something. And what she suffers from is nothing I have done."

"Then what is it?" Alistair asked, still far away. I stood slowly, still feeling dizzy as I put an arm on Aedan's arm to steady myself.

"The Taint," I coughed, trying to straighten out my vision. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I can...can feel you and Aedan, in my head."

"Really?" Alistair breathed, wide-eyed. "It took me months to be able to sense other Wardens, even a little. Duncan said it varies, but...days?"

As if on cue, the sensation faded. They were gone from my head and my stomach was no longer protesting. I laughed, just a little, "It's...gone now, I think."

"Your problem, however, is not," Flemeth spoke, bringing us back to the real matter at hand.

"I think we should do it. Or at least try," I said, bringing Aedan back over to the sort of circle we formed with the witch. "I mean...someone has to, don't they? And obviously Loghain has no interest in fighting darkspawn."

Alistair looked furious at the mention of the man's name – I understood why, he had been the reason that Duncan was now dead. Or at least, that was the conclusion that Alistair had drawn.

"Are there any other Grey Wardens we could reach?" Aedan asked, still looking as though he thought I was joking. At least he was trying, even if he wasn't excited about it.

"Duncan sent word to the headquarters in Weisshaupt before the battle at Ostagar. I imagine they would have come, if they were able." He seemed downtrodden by this, but it didn't matter. We might die, but we had to try.

"I'm sure the treaties will work," I responded, patting my pack lightly. "We should head to the nearest town for supplies and news, I think."

"That would be Lothering – it's along the Imperial Highway." Aedan nodded a little, seemingly warming up to the idea.

A creak alerted us to Morrigan's presence as she exited the hut she and her mother shared, informing us all that the soup was done. After deciding we were not staying for dinner, she let us in on a little secret – neither was Morrigan.

The younger witch looked just as surprised as we were when Flemeth said that Morrigan would be coming with us.

"I don't think an apostate-"

"Her magic will serve you well."

"-but Mother-"

"You have been trying to get out of here for years. Now is your chance. Go and get your things, girl."

Morrigan looked a little hurt by her mother's words but she did as she was told, with a rather few choice words under her breath. Aedan and Alistair both turned to me, questioning me on my opinion.

"Flemeth is right," I shrugged a little, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. Why were they asking me? "I mean, we don't have magic without her and I think it will prove useful. I doubt having a mage with us will cause any more trouble than the hordes of darkspawn that will certainly follow on our heels."

Neither of them looked particularly assuaged but they ceased their protestations as Morrigan joined us again with a pack across one shoulder and a long wooden staff in hand.

Flemeth sent us off with a rigorous good-bye and a plea to keep her daughter safe. No one spoke as we pushed on through the Wilds, led by a very irritated-looking Morrigan. Aedan's eyes scanned everything, for what, I do not know. I imagine it had something to do with his curiosity over scouting parties. Alistair looked as though he was going to be sick.

And I was really beginning to think I wasn't in Kansas anymore.


	5. Fireside Manner

Our first night was uneventful; we had sighted no darkspawn during the day, been set upon by no ruffians, and no one had said a single word since we left Flemeth's hut except to decide who should make dinner. I offered; everyone else seemed to be distracted enough to burn the entire forest down. I couldn't start the fire on my own (something that Alistair and Aedan both looked curious about) and, with a little prodding, Morrigan shot a small flame at my pile of wood. There was flint and tinder in my pack, but I hadn't the faintest idea how to use them. It was a meager supper of small game, but it was cooked all the way through.

Our second day involved a few ragtag groups of darkspawn. After one particularly bad attempt at taking down a darkspawn from about ten feet off, Morrigan turned to me with a bemused expression. "You're not very good, are you?"

My first reaction was to be offended but I quickly realized there was no reason; she was right. So I shrugged, knocked another arrow, and tried again. "No, I'm not. But I'll get better."

Morrigan snorted, holding her staff tightly. The men were finishing off the one I had not been able to take down and looked as though they were doing a solid job of it so we took our attention off of the threat for the moment. "I hope we live long enough to see that."

My cheeks burned from embarrassment as well as sunburn as I shook my head, securing my bow as I moved away to retrieve the arrows that I could.

Aedan, wiping is sword off in the grass before replacing it in its scabbard at his waist, turned to look at me. "Is everything all right?"

"Peachy," I responded and, to the dumbfounded look that caused on his face, I waved my hand dismissively. "I'm fine. Let's just get what we can get and keep on moving. It's going to be dark soon. We should make camp before long."

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but we did as I suggested. We made quick work of the dead darkspawn and kept walking until the sun was nearly gone.

That night, each one of us on a side of the campfire that was slowly dying down, I took the first watch. And the second.

Alistair sat up slowly, looking at me from his bedroll as he rubbed one eye and then the other. "How long has it been? Isn't it my turn?"

I shrugged a little, standing to poke at the fire. We wanted to keep it alive, but down. We didn't need to lure anything to us, just to keep warm. "I wasn't tired, I thought I would let you sleep."

I turned towards him and could see the same look on his face that Aedan's had held when I first met him – drawn lips, sad eyes, and a distinct aura of melancholy. I moved over towards him and gestured down at the foot of his bedroll. "May I?" I asked quietly and he nodded slightly before I sat down beside him, sitting with my knees bent and my feet beneath me. "I'm sorry," I started, speaking quietly as to avoid waking the others.

Alistair's eyes moved slowly from the small flames to my face and he frowned, hands falling to either side of his body. "For what? Dinner was lovely. A little cheese would have been nice, but..."

"Alistair," I murmured, moving my hand to touch his lightly. When he didn't shy away, I covered his with mine. "You don't have to talk about it now, or ever – but I...I want you to know you can."

Alistair moved his hand out from beneath mine and nodded, smiling very faintly. "You should..get some sleep. I'll let Aedan sleep tonight through, I think."

I smiled weakly back at him and made to stand, leaving Alistair alone on his bedroll as I moved to curl up on mine.

The third and fourth days were much like the first, save for the fact that my entire body ached. I was, apparently, the only person that was unused to long treks across country. And the shoes, I thought my feet were going to start bleeding. I had to sip on healing potions several times a day to stave off the pain of both travel and the sun. I hated doing it, but both Aedan and Alistair insisted. Somehow Morrigan's porcelain skin never turned so much as light pink. I imagined it was some convenient mage trait and I envied her more than a little.

I had begun to smell in that unwashed way and my head itched terribly from needing to be tended to. No one else seemed to notice, as I imagined it was commonplace for them to go several days without bathing. I, however, couldn't stand it any longer.

"Do you know if there is a lake or a river on the way?" I frowned, pulling my hair out of its bun and shaking my head. I had taken to wearing it high on my head as having it all down was too hot. I was contemplating cutting it all off, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. It was ratty and snarled, oily at the roots and I could smell the stale sweat as it fell around my shoulders. I had never felt so disgusting, sore, and tired in all of my life.

"To the west, just a little. It should only take an hour or so out of our time," Aedan responded, watching me from his position to my right.

A snort of discontent came from Morrigan in front of us and she shook her head, even as her hips swayed. "I thought we were hurrying desperately to save Ferelden from the Blight?"

"An hour won't hurt. Besides, I have a cat growing out of my face," Alistair responded, speaking to the group for the first time since we had left the Korcari Wilds. I think his speech might have stunned all of us enough that the quarreling ceased and we veered in the direction of a shallow, slow-moving river.

We made camp beside the river, deciding that we had pushed ourselves enough over the last few days that we could spend an extra hour resting. I am pretty sure that Aedan and Alistair both realized I was dying slowly and so decided it was best not to push me, at least not any more that day.

We were instructed that it was 'ladies first' and so Morrigan and I went down to the river. Morrigan seemed mostly disinterested in washing, although she did eventually remove her clothes and join me. I stripped immediately and propelled myself into the water; it was cold and I couldn't be bothered to care. I was wet, there was soap (rough and odd-smelling, but still soap), and I would be clean. I wouldn't smell, at least not for a while. And I was clean.

I took far longer than Morrigan did, lounging in the water for quite some time before I even pretended to be interested in washing out my clothes. I laid them out on any open rock I could find, deciding it was a little cleaner than putting them on the ground. I had no desire to get out of the river but felt it was a little selfish to stay in it all night when both men were waiting too.

I dressed in the plainclothes from my pack as I had decided to wash the tunic I wore beneath my armor as well as the inside of the leather. The clothes fit well, although it was an odd feeling to be wearing something less than the bras I was used to. It wasn't like I was particularly well-endowed like Morrigan, but there was enough there to warrant some support. I felt a little exposed in the band of fabric around my chest and the light fabric of the shirt, but I had little other option.

Finally I made my way back to the camp, my hair down and dampening my shirt, my drying clothes in my arms, and a small smile on my face.

"Feel better?" Alistair asked as I began to arrange my clothes on a rolled-over log by the fire.

"Much," I smiled up at him, standing closer to the fire once my clothes were taken care of to help in drying my hair. "Your turn."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Yes, because Morrigan and I are going to giggle about you boys while you're gone."

Morrigan, who had been busy doing nothing on her bedroll a few feet further away than ours, shot me a look and I laughed.

"The sooner you get back, the sooner you eat," I teased, motioning to the pot over the firepit that we had put up before going to the river. Rabbit stew tonight. They were the easiest thing to catch. And honestly the only game I had seen.

"What's for dinner tonight, Cook?" Aedan asked with humor in his voice as he joined us, clothes in arm like Alistair. I had become the unofficial cook, not because I was good but because I offered. No one seemed to be complaining, at least not too loudly. So I kept on doing it.

"Hmm... I was thinking about a delicious lamb stew," I responded, wringing my hair out. "Alas, we will have to settle for a mediocre pot of hot water with bits rabbit and some odd-looking mushrooms."

"Odd-looking mushrooms?" Alistair intoned, eyebrows furrowed.

"Morrigan picked them."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Alistair laughed – really laughed – for the first time in days.


	6. Losing Lothering

The next few days of travel continued in mostly the same way, with a little more banter. Morrigan and Alistair never had a nice thing to say to one another but even their sarcastic remarks were better than silence.

I was growing more accustomed to the long days, although my feet were still not happy about their involvement. My stance improved and so did my aim, but only enough so that two out of every four or five arrows hit, rather than one. Still, it was an improvement. Morrigan did not comment, but a side-eyed glance let me know that she noticed.

Once on the road to Lothering I had the same dizzy, awkward connection in my mind to my male companions that left me feeling nauseated until it passed. I shook it off and kept moving, despite the concerned look that Aedan gave me.

The last night we spent out, I was to take the last watch. I slept better than I had been – dreams had been plaguing me since Ostagar. I hadn't asked Alistair yet, figuring they would go away eventually. Most of them time I was able to wake up and fall back to sleep. They didn't happen all of the time, but usually at least once a night. That night, though, I hadn't had any.

I woke up to Aedan sitting beside me, taking up what little room I had left on the side of my bedroll. He touched me lightly on the shoulder, saying my name quietly. I woke quickly, used to it by now. I sat up slowly, letting what passed for my blanket fall to pool in my lap. I made room for him and sat beside him, close but not touching.

"You should get some more sleep," I murmured, offering a small smile.

Aedan didn't respond right away and when he did, he spoke into his lap. "They're all dead."

I inhaled sharply, watching him. I lifted my hand but stopped short of touching him. "I-"

"I mean my family," he continued, glancing at me but turning away to look at the low flames instead. "That's why I joined the Wardens. I had nothing left."

He sounded far off, sad. I did the only thing I could think of and leaned into him gently. When he didn't shy away, I found his hand with mine. He squeezed first.

"My father's friend...Or, a man that we thought was his friend...He betrayed us. He murdered my sister, my mother, and my father. My sister-in-law. My...my..nephew." His breath hitched and I squeezed his hand gently. "He stole my home, my family, my life. And I can't do anything about it."

I waited a moment to make sure he was done and then lifted my head from his shoulder. "Aedan. Aedan, if we survive this whole thing – if we do this, or if we find him while we're trying...I will hold him down."

Aedan's lips twitched a little but he wasn't fixed. He let out a heavy, shaky sigh and removed his hand from mine. He stirred as if he was going to stand and I put my hand on his shoulder.

"You should stay here."

His gaze was heavy on me and he didn't say anything. We sat like that for a long moment before he asked, quietly, "Will...would it make you feel better?"

I was almost amused; we were making it about me. Why I wanted him to stay close, because I needed the closeness of someone instead of him. Well, if that was what I needed to do to help him, I could sacrifice some face.

"Yes, Aedan. I don't want to be alone right now," I responded with a small smile.

Without another word, Aedan stretched himself out on my bedroll, facing my back. I sat with my legs stretched out, the small of my back brushed by his stomach when he breathed. I felt something against my leg and looked down, finding his hand there. His eyes were closed, but I still let my hand cover his.

"Thank you," he said, nearly silent as he let himself fall asleep.

Once we reached Lothering and disbanded the group of thugs that were preying on refugees, we split into two groups. Aedan, Mather, and Morrigan went for odd jobs and Alistair and I went for supplies.

"Have you thought of what we're going to do next?" Alistair asked as we moved slowly through the refugees, picking the herbs Morrigan had described to me. Much to her chagrin, I had been able to convince Morrigan to teach me which herbs were worthwhile. She gave me an odd look but didn't mention it to either of our male companions.

"I...no, not really. Maybe we should talk to Aedan and Morrigan when we meet up later. I don't think I'm the most...qualified to make that decision. What about you, though?"

Alistair looked uncomfortable for a long moment, walking in-step with my despite his longer legs. "I don't...I don't know. I thought, perhaps, we could go to Redcliffe. Arl Eamon, he was Calian's uncle. He'll want to help. I know him, Gwen – he...he's a good man."

"It makes as much sense as anything else does," I responded with a nod, sticking a few more plants into my pack.. "And I'm sure he'll have an idea about where to go next, once we get there."

We spent quite a while picking what we could before we happened upon a man and his stall, with a rather loud argument drawing our attention. It was about his prices, about making it too difficult for the remaining people to purchase much of anything.

He wanted us to get the priestess out of his face and she wanted us to talk some sense into him. Alistair, rather obviously, was siding with the priestess. I was all for capitalism but if the horde from Ostagar was going the same direction we were, what did a few gold pieces matter?

"Wouldn't it make more sense to charge less so people can buy more?" I proposed, folding my arms stiffly in front of my leather armor. "It helps everyone. They get more product, you get more money – and you are the only merchant here, aren't you?"

"Yes I am. So I can charge whatever I want to."

"You can. Except my friend and I have more than enough to give away. Which means, if you don't lower your prices to accommodate these fine people, we'll run you out of business." I was lying. Alistair knew I was lying, but the key was that this merchant didn't. He didn't look even the least bit pleased with what I had to say.

Letting out a heavy sigh, the merchant looked at me, hard, for a long moment before he groaned and threw his hands up. "Fine. I'll lower the prices. I don't suppose you have anything you'd like to sell, do you?"

And so we bartered and sold and bought. I was lucky that I didn't have to send Aedan and Morrigan over, after my little lie, and he was excited enough about what we had to sell that Alistair and I were able to actually buy the supplies we intended on.

As we walked away, towards the only bar in the town, Alistair put his hand on my shoulder and drew my attention to him. "I wanted to say thank you – for the town, I guess. For convincing him into lowering his prices."

"Even though I lied through my teeth?" I laughed a little, uncomfortable with the appreciation because I hadn't, honestly, done anything.

"You did it for the right reasons – although you were lucky that he didn't make you prove it," Alistair laughed a little, letting go and moving away a little.

"Very. I think Aedan and Morrigan would've been a little peeved if we had to give up all of our possessions just to prove me right."

"It might have warranted mutiny."

"Can you mutiny against someone that isn't a captain? Or a leader, for that matter?"

"You kind of are, a leader I mean. You're the only reason we're here, or together." Alistair and I paused outside of the bar, called Dane's Refuge, as I looked at him curiously.

"How do you figure that?"

"I doubt that Aedan and I would've pressed on this way. And neither of us wanted Morrigan to come along, that was your idea."

"Technically it was Flemeth's. But it was a good idea nonetheless. And I wouldn't have even lived this long if the three of you – and Mather, of course – weren't around."

"We wouldn't be around if it wasn't for you," he finalized, reaching out to hold the door open for me.

"I don't believe that. Aedan loves this country and you love the Wardens too much to abandon Ferelden to the Blight."

"Maybe. But we probably would have killed each other by now. You make it easier. And if we hadn't, we would have starved. I don't think he's ever seen a pot before, and you know what happens when I cook." He chuckled a little, letting the door close behind him.

It was a small room, or at least it felt such with the sheer amount of people there. I nearly gagged when I inhaled through my nose for the first time; the smell of unwashed and deodorant-less individuals was staggering. I barely managed to save face; it would be commonplace for such smells in this time and place, I guessed. Not that I had any idea where or when I was. But still.

When we entered, two men stirred. They were gruff, soldiering men dressed full armor. And they were looking straight at us.

"I think we've found trouble," I murmured lowly, wishing suddenly I knew how to use anything other than a bow.

The two men spoke in hushed, angry tones to each other before they drew their swords and came our way. Alistair tensed at my side but neither of us drew our weapons.

The man that came to stand in front of me narrowed his eyes, looking us over. "It's them. I'd know that bitch anywhere."

"Wasn't there a third?" The other man looked at us, squinting as if expecting another person to appear.

"No," I responded immediately, trying to ignore the fact that I'd been called a bitch for probably the third time in my life. "He died on our way out of Ostagar."

"Good, it'll make things easier for us," the other spoke with a wicked grin. "Loghain has a pretty price on your heads, you traitorous bitch."

Make it four.

"Traitor?" Alistair asked, the look on his face both confused and terrifying. "Who said we were traitors?"

"Loghain," a voice, like a song, offered as the length of a modelesque redhead in the same sort of dress as our merchant's priestess friend came to stand almost between us and the soldiers. "He has claimed that the Grey Wardens betrayed the King on the battlefield."

Alistair looked as though he was somewhere between crying and stabbing the woman who told us the truth. He drew his sword and held his shield in front of him, obviously intent on destroying someone.

"Alistair," I breathed a plea, looking back to the soldiers. "Please, don't-" And then, as the man in front of Alistair lifted his sword, I did the only thing that made any sense.

I punched the one in front of me squarely in the nose. I heard the crunch and wasn't certain if it was his nose or my knuckles but he dropped his sword and clenched his face in pain. The redhead dodged, grabbed the sword, and held it with the point to his chest. Alistair was doing the same with the other soldier, who looked more irritated than anything. It was too easy but who was I to complain? Aside from my throbbing hand, we were all right. I could live with that.

"Now. This can continue, or you can make the smart choice," I spoke, sounding far braver than I felt. I knew my hand was shaking, that my insides were squirming, but apparently I was more intimidating or convincing than I realized.

The soldier in front of me snarled, blood still seeping out of his nose. "This won't end with us."

"No. I don't suppose it will. Especially not after you tell Loghain we are alive. And we know what really happened and Ostagar." My hand, covered in a light leather glove, lifted to grasp the sword and I pushed it forward, just a little. It didn't draw blood, it didn't need to. "Understood?"

It was understood, it appeared, and the soldiers left, grumbling. The redhead introduced herself as Leliana and informed us that it was a Maker-sent dream that required her to assist us.

She was fast. And she knew how to handle a weapon better than I did. Alistair looked dubious, however. I asked her if he and I might speak privately and she offered a genial smile before she went to buy us drinks.

"I don't know, Gwen."

"I know she seems at least marginally talented," I responded, taking up a seat so close to Alistair our armor rubbed. "But that whole...vision-dream thing. Do you think she's...all there?"

"She seems more 'oooh, pretty colors' and less Princess Stabbity Stab," he snorted a little, shrugging his shoulders beneath his metal armor. "Well, at the very least her conversations with Morrigan might prove entertaining."

"I'm glad you approve," I laughed a little and turned as Leliana squeezed in across from us and set mugs in front of both of us. "Welcome to the party, Leliana."

It was some time later when we all met at the designated entrance to the town and Alistair and I noted that we were not the only part of our group that had recruited someone else. A man, because I feel like he was more man than beast, stood taller than either Aedan or Alistair by a good half a foot and he was at least twice as wide as me. His eyes were a little terrifying, blood-red and shockingly different to his pure white hair. His skin was bronze, but more...metallic than someone that had fallen asleep in a tanning bed.

It was an interesting, albeit awkward, first meeting. Leliana knew him, Sten, as a man that had murdered an entire family of farmers. She seemed particularly unimpressed that he was a part of our group but, despite that, she decided she would remain with us.

We were making our way out of town, away from the devastation that would inevitably overtake those poor people, and came upon a group of poorly armed men. They were hell-bent on our heads – especially mine, Alistair's, and Aedan's. I tried to reason with them but to no avail. They, apparently, had a death wish.

One. I only actually killed one. But even from my distance, I could see him fall as a lucky arrow struck him in the chest. I thought I might fall too, seeing him clutch the shaft of the thing as if he could pull it out and fix the fatal wound.

I was dazed even after we saved the dwarves, after they decided to travel with us despite my warnings of danger. I didn't speak, not to my party members. I moved as fast as anyone else but did not clean myself or my clothes with any vigor. Leliana tried to coax either Morrigan or I into conversation at the side of the small lake we had come upon, but I could barely manage to listen, let alone respond. Morrigan said more, although I imagine Leliana wished she hadn't. I, for the first time since departing from the Wilds, did not offer or begin to make dinner. Alistair took up the reigns and I was pleaded with to never allow such a thing again. I should have smiled, but could not.

It was my watch again. I took first shift, still wired from the day. Mostly, I couldn't stop thinking about how everything was wrong. I knew I couldn't be dreaming, not after everything. I knew, too, that this was no reenactment.

So I had, somehow, been magically transported through time and probably space, from everything and everyone I knew to a place full of evil and death. Of hatred and betrayal. There was little else but loneliness and sorrow surrounding me, despite everyone's best efforts in our little camp – well, maybe not Morrigan's – to raise the spirits every once and a while.

But it was futile. And I could feel it. From my toes to the roots of my hair, I felt it. I felt sick, curled sitting on my blanket with my arms around my trouser-covered legs and my chin on my knees. I had bathed again, scrubbed until my skin was raw. I had killed men that day; real, flesh and blood men without a curse other than fear.

I was terrified, I was angry, and I was alone. I wasn't alone in the real sense, as the campfire was surrounded by sleeping bodies. Sleeping bodies I was, apparently, barely holding together. I was responsible for. Who was I to be responsible for a person, a group of people, or an entire country? I could barely keep a houseplant alive.

How was I supposed to save a country that, to my knowledge, didn't exist? Did that mean that I failed?

I was trying desperately not to cry but I certainly did fail at that - trying not to. I cried into the scratchy wool fabric that covered my legs to just below the knee, my head buried between my knees and my chin tucked almost to my chest. I was quiet, or least I thought so. Not quiet enough to avoid waking up at least one companion, however.

I didn't even lift my head as I heard the footsteps approach. They were heavy footfalls, obviously one of the guys. Both had removed their armor and so, without looking up, it was impossible to tell. Even as he sat beside me, close but not touching

A hand, lightly on my shoulder. And, after a long moment, Alistair's voice.

"I...I know it's hard."

I hiccuped, I think. It was half sob, half laugh at his statement. **Hard** wasn't even scratching the surface. More like _impossible_.

"Thanks," I murmured into my knees. He moved closer, his arm draping over my shoulders in their entirety. And then his other arm, tentatively, came to wrap around my legs. I stiffened at first but leaned into him almost immediately. His chin rested lightly over my head, brushing against my hair when he spoke.

"I'm not very good at...at this. At comfort. At people," he chuckled a little. The sound was deep against my shoulder, reverberating through my insides.

"I'm not good at anything," I responded with a forlorn sort of laugh, lifting my head enough to tuck it beneath his chin.

"That isn't true, Gwen," Alistair spoke in hushed tones, holding me a little tighter. His breath ruffled my hair. "Like I said before, you're keeping us together, just being here."

"It doesn't feel like it. Oh, Alistair," I groaned, burying my face against his arm and shoulder. I wanted to tell him the truth – about who I was and who I wasn't, about how I didn't know anything and especially not what the hell I was doing. But I didn't. I didn't tell him about anything. It was far too terrifying, and I didn't need any more fear right then. "I...I killed a man today, Alistair. It...I've never killed a man before. Darkspawn, yes. But...never...never a person. He had a family. He had a house, I imagine. A life. And I took it... I took it all away."

Alistair's hand moved to stroke my hair gently, if a little awkwardly. But it was all right, because I know what he meant by it. "I'm so sorry, Gwen. I...I would be lying if I told you it gets easier. But you do start thinking about it less."

It wasn't really comforting, but it was nice to know I wasn't the only one that thought about the fact that I had directly caused the death of someone. I wanted to curl into a ball and die, honestly. But I knew I couldn't.

Instead, I let him hold me as he quietly spoke about the Wardens. He told me stories about his time with them, about the mess hall incidences and the incredible hunger that I had begun to experience. About the dreams. About drinking, about Duncan. He told me a lot about Duncan. About how Duncan had saved him from a life in the Chantry. About Duncan's beginning, the story of his own recruitment.

The last thing I remember from that night was the two of us, huddled together on my bedroll as Sten took up his watch. He gave us a look but said absolutely nothing as we buried ourselves in each other to forget the fear.


	7. Destiny and Eggs, but No Bacon

I was the first one awake the next morning, although Sten was still propped near a tree, facing towards the mostly-dead fire, still awake from his shift. Usually we separated our shifts into fours, but last night it had ended up in more like two and a half. Apparently Sten had allowed Morrigan to sleep through the night, which was just as well. I can't imagine what sort of things she would have had to say, seeing me disentangle myself from Alistair on my bedroll.

I left him sleeping and walked a bit away from our encampment to dress in my armor before I began to search out food. Sten stopped me as I passed by, however, and asked in his simple, low voice, "What are you doing here?"

I halted and turned, giving him a strange look. If I had the right answer, I would have given it. But he continued, saying, "Women do not belong in battle."

I snorted a little, "You know, I would agree with you that I have no business fighting. But destiny had something else in mind, it would seem."

He looked at me hard for a moment before continuing, "The Qunari believe that destiny assigns us our roles in this life. Some are meant to be merchants, some warriors."

"I used to believe we could choose, you know – that we could choose our path in life. But after..recent events, I doubt that thought any longer. Even if we try and choose something, what is to say that wasn't what we were meant to be to begin with? We are born to be what we become, I think."

Sten made an odd sort of noise at that, something like a snort and a grunt of agreement, I think. He said nothing else and so I turned away from him, heading a little into the woods around us to hunt down something for breakfast.

I returned some time later with nothing to add to our empty pot, only to discover that Leliana was already serving up eggs. I missed eggs. But, even as I sat down to enjoy the fruits of her labor, I missed bacon even more. And pancakes. And waffles. Oh, how I loved waffles covered in syrup.

I had settled myself between Alistair and Aedan, a fair distance from both of them. We sat around the firepit that we had created over which Leliana cooked the eggs. "I'm glad someone found something, or else we would have starved. No game out here, not that I could see."

"Perhaps they all ran away due to Alistair's incessant snoring," Morrigan quipped, raising a dark eyebrow as she finished her breakfast.

Alistair made a face as the rest of us, barring Sten, laughed a little.

There was some murmur of me knowing exactly how much he snored, to which I blushed but no one commented. In fact, we all carried on eating in amiable silence until we had exhausted oura resources, at which point I cleared my throat.

"We need to decide where we go from here," I started, trying my best to look around me at each person. "The treaties we have are for the dwarves of Orzammar, the Dalish elves, and the mages in the Circle. Alistair brought up a good point and suggested that we go to Redcliffe first, to seek out Arl Eammon. It is my understanding that he was the King's uncle and should know what really happened to him. He is also likely to have soldiers that he may be willing to commit to our cause."

"That I doubt," Morrigan scoffed a little. I gave her an irritated look but it did not even touch the look of disdain that Alistair was shooting her.

"What she means is that we ran into a knight from Redcliffe in Lothering, when we returned that templar's things to the Chantry. He told us his name, Ser Donall, and that he and the templar, Ser Henric, had been searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes because Arl Eammon is deathly ill and nothing has been able to heal him."

"Then we have to go," Alistair blurted, almost standing as he spoke. No one said anything immediately, although eventually I took the lead again.

"Unless anyone can think of a particularly good reason as to why we can't, I don't see how it's a bad choice."

"We should go after Loghain directly," Morrigan said.

"Are we not to fight darkspawn?" Sten intoned.

Aedan, Alistair, and I looked at one another before both of their sets of eyes settled on me. I groaned. Why was I in charge?

"We can't go after Loghain without an army, Morrigan. He has, according to people in Lothering, named himself Regent. It would be utter suicide to go after him as we are. And yes, Sten, we are going to fight darkspawn. But we can't fight the entire horde, just the six – sorry, seven of us," I corrected myself when Mather tilted his head, watching me. "So, if there isn't any more opposition – to Redcliffe we will go."

"But if this Arl is ill, what good will we be?"

"Whatever good we have to be," I responded easily to Sten and, without another word, moved to roll up my things and prepare to set out for more travel.


	8. Bad Aim

It would be another few days before we would reach Redcliffe, a few more days of travel with my new companions. Usually Aedan or Alistair led, sometimes both as they would chat, because both of them knew the way better than anyone else. I think Leliana might have known where she was going, if we gave her the opportunity but Morrigan had no experience much outside of the Wilds and Sten was nearly as foreign as I was. On one afternoon in particular, Aedan and Alistair walked side-by-side in the front, discussing something I couldn't hear from the back of the line. Behind them walked Sten, looking particularly disgruntled I imagine. He and Morrigan and been speaking and they had the oddest exchanges. Sten held a culture-based disapproval of magic, although they agreed on many other things. It appeared that the conversation had veered towards magic because Morrigan had scoffed and held herself to avoid a continued interaction.

Leliana came up beside me and simply smiled for a long moment before she spoke in her lilting, French-sounding accent. "I have noticed that you seem rather attached to your bow."

"If by that you mean I can't use anything else, you've noticed correctly," I laughed a little, turning to look at her though glancing in front of me to make sure that I didn't run into anyone or anything.

Mather dodged around us, moving beside me before running ahead to beg for attention from our other companions, making the rounds every hundred feet or so unless someone stopped to pay attention to him.

Leliana smiled at me still, trying to assuage my embarrassment. "I did not mean to offend you, I merely meant to suggest... If you would be interested, I would be able to help teach you. I could help you with your form a little, and teach you how to utilize daggers for close combat."

"I would love that. And I'm pretty certain everyone else would too. I can't imagine me actually hitting something other than the ground would be frowned upon." We both laughed, although her laugh sounded far more refined. Almost practiced, but not quite. I sounded like a seal, or something. You know that kind of laugh that's just natural, but not necessarily lilting and lovely? Just a laugh, unrefined and unimportant. Leliana, everything about her, was honed. She and Morrigan were alike in that way; they were both deadly beauties with sculpted bodies and perfect skin. They were the kind of women that I would've envied until I turned green back home. Well, I did envy them that much.

We continued on, making small-talk about ourselves – I tried very hard to keep the focus of the conversation on Leliana, as I still hadn't taken enough time to create a viable backstory. I didn't know enough about the land around me to create a place I could have been from. The day was long and we traveled as far as we could while the sunlight remained and, after dinner was caught, cooked, and taken care of Leliana and I separated ourselves a little from the group. We were still within sight of the others as we set ourselves up in front of a tree. Leliana took a dagger and dug out an 'x' on the side of the tree before she holstered it at her side and came to stand a few feet behind me.

"Come back here a little. I will have you shoot and watch and then help you correct your form."

I did as I was told, knocking an arrow and loosing it against the tree. My arrow flew wide, landing half-heartedly in a tree a few feet behind the other.

"Oh, I see," Leliana murmured, to herself mostly, and moved around to stand at my side. She did not question my left-handed use of the bow and arrow, merely adjusted herself so that she could appropriately help me. She pressed her front to my back and slide her arms along mine, her cheek almost pressed to mine. It was odd for me; I hadn't really been this close to another woman, regardless of the intent, in a long time. I had few female friends and no contact with my mother, so no reason for hugs or anything like them. But the proximity was nice. It was even a little comforting, having someone close. Like being near Aedan while he slept, or having Alistair with me on my bedroll. I felt alone, but less so. It wasn't the aching, terrifying sort of loneliness when someone was close to me.

Leliana and I spent quite a long while trying for me to hit the target. She wouldn't let me stop until I got three in a row, at which point she suggested that I try again. It seemed the practice had helped quite a bit, although I knew in the heat of battle it wouldn't be quite as easy. She suggested, too, that we try to continue our practice nightly if possible. She promised the next day we would work on daggers, though.

She was pleasant; a little strange, insomuch that I always felt like she was saying half-truths even when she was speaking about the weather. It was an odd sort of realization, but it didn't matter; she was kind and she was helping me. She preferred daggers in combat, but she still knew her way around a bow and arrow, that was for sure. And when she had me sparring with her, teaching me form with a dagger and the best way to avoid getting hit while still making some kind of attack, I knew she could not have been a cloistered sister for all of her life. We had not gotten that far into our discussions, but I knew that there was a story behind those gray-blue eyes.

On what Alistair and Aedan both agreed would likely be our last night before reaching the town of Redcliffe, after a particularly rigorous training session with Leliana, I practically threw myself into the river.

I hadn't brushed my teeth, not properly, in weeks. I had given up on deodorant and had slowly grown accustomed to leaves. My hair was almost constantly in knots but I was becoming more okay with looking less put together, not that I had ever been particularly high-maintenance.

I went in fully clothed, my armor long-since discarded, and slowly removed my clothes to wash them as well as myself. I was down to my smallclothes – that's what they called them, anyway – with my clothes draped over low hanging branches of a tree. I scrubbed what skin was bare, my body too bruised and tired to try and get anything else off right away.

And it was, apparently, a good idea. I heard some bumbling footsteps and then a loud announcement of Alistair's present.

"Gwen? I have my eyes covered but-"

"Don't be ridiculous, you'll trip and kill yourself," I laughed, practically sitting in the water. "I'm submerged. You won't see anything, don't worry."

Alistair pulled his hand away from his eyes but I imagined that his cheeks were red. It was dark, though the moon was incredibly full and stars glittered everywhere. Even though the camp was quite a bit away and the fire was low, I could see him pretty well, although his face was still mostly shadowed. He stepped awkwardly around rocks, finding one large enough to sit on.

"This is not a good time, is it?"

"Honestly, Alistair, it's fine. Obviously you wanted to talk to me alone, and this is probably the best we're going to get. It isn't like there is a lot free time."

"I just...I don't know. This isn't exactly how I wanted to tell you."

"Then... turn around for a minute. I'll get out and get dressed. We can stay down here for a while and you can tell me whatever it is you want to tell me."

After a moment he nodded and agreed, standing up to face in the other direction as I stripped my bra band and underwear off to change it for the clean ones, dressing in the loose tunic and tight breeches I had laid out earlier. As I squeezed my hair out, I let him know I was ready.

He turned around as I moved about, straightening everything on the branch before moving over to him. He watched me silently until I came to stand close to him.

"It's about...it's about Redcliffe, sort of. I thought you should know before we got there. I...I lived there. When I was younger."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. He sighed a little but continued, "I...Arl Eammon raised me, sort of. For a while."

"Alistair," I started, reaching out and touching his fabric-covered arm. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"But I do," he groaned a little, lifting his hand to rub it over his face. "I want you to know, I've just never told anyone before. Anyone that knew was told already. It...when people found out, it always made things harder."

"Alistair, I promise you," I smiled and touched his cheek, not sure if I should but choosing to do it anyway, "nothing could make this harder."

He laughed and his hand took mine for a moment before they dropped to our sides. "I guess that's true. But...Gwen, I'm King Maric's son."

Now, I imagine this would have meant a lot more if I knew who the hell King Maric was. I could guess, though, that meant that he was illegitimate.

"And he left you with the Arl because he couldn't have you at the castle," I spoke, mostly to let him know I was following. "That's why it's so important to you that we go to Redcliffe."

"He might have sent me to the Chantry, but...he still did good things for me. And if he is sick and we can do anything, I feel like...like I owe him."

"It's all right, Alistair," I found his hand again, "We will do everything we can for him. Even if it's just you and I."

"It doesn't...it doesn't matter to you that I am a royal bastard?" He asked with a small, sideways smile and a sad sort of distance in his eyes.

"Why would it matter? You're the same person now that you were before you told me. Nothing has changed."

"That...that isn't true," he breathed, his hand that wasn't in mine lifting and pushing a string of wet hair away from my face. "Gwen...I have something for you."

"A present?" I grinned at him, my unused hand coming up to rest flat against his chest. It was warm beneath his shirt and hard, the muscles taught. I had never met men like my companions, so incredibly physically refined. It was like something out of a movie. Not that I was complaining.

Alistair disconnected from me and reached into his pouch, withdrawing a brilliant rose. "I...I tried to convince Morrigan to cast a preservation spell, but she wouldn't even listen to me. Aedan got her to do it, though. I found it in Lothering. I saw it and I just... I couldn't stop thinking about how it was perfect. Something so beautiful, thriving in a place so full of despair and ugliness. I probably should have left it there, you know. But I couldn't just let it be taken over by the darkspawn, I knew their Taint would just destroy it. I...I wanted to give it to you, actually. I've been thinking about it for a while."

I felt the heat in my cheeks and my skin tingled a little; it was like the butterflies on a first date. I took the rose gently in my hands, holding it in front of me to look at it. "It is absolutely beautiful, Alistair. I really...thank you."

And I did what I would have done anywhere else. I went up on tip-toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. I knew, without a doubt, that his cheeks were flaming red like mine were.

"I...I should be thanking you," he responded, his deep voice a little breathy. We had moved closer, somehow, and I had my head tilted back to look up at him. He wasn't touch me but I could feel his closeness just the same. "I wanted to give it to you because...well, because, in a lot of ways, I feel the same way about you. Everything I said about how you hold us together...it's not just us as a group. I don't know what I would do, if you weren't here with me."

I didn't know what to say to him; it was the sweetest thing I had ever remembered someone saying to me. It didn't matter if it was a dream or impossible, it was still incredibly sweet. We spent a lot of time together; all of us did, really. I tended to walk with Alistair and Aedan when I could. Sometimes Aedan would opt to speak to Morrigan, Sten, or Leliana instead. I tried to speak to the others also, because...well, it seemed important. But I found myself gravitating towards Alistair more often than not. We spoke of a lot of things, mostly just to pass the time. But I liked it. A lot.

"But I am, Alistair," I smiled at him and slid my fingers through his, squeezing his hand gently. "And I feel very much the same way. You make this easier."

"You make it look pretty easy," he chuckled, his eyes still locked with mine.

"It's my natural charm and elegance," I laughed, slipping my hand from his and tucking my rose behind my ear. Alistair halted me, adjusting the rose before his hand cupped my cheek.

"Seriously, Gwen. I hope... I hope this wasn't too forward, or anything. But to know you accept me...even after I lied to you. I couldn't help myself."

I turned my head a little, kissing his palm as I lifted my hand to cover his. "No, Alistair. It wasn't too forward. It's all right. It was lovely. Thank you."

It was a long moment that we stood there, not saying anything with his hand on my cheek and our bodies so close that they were exchanging heat. We didn't kiss and we didn't close the gap, just stood there and appreciated that we truly weren't alone.


	9. Secrets and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the truth comes out. Sort of.

Alistair and I offered to take the first watch, not because we needed two people but because Alistair still wanted to talk. He told me about his childhood, from the Arl's attentions to his wife's horrible treatment. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to punch that Lady Isolde square in the jaw after being told how she treated Alistair. It was worse even than my own parents, something I still didn't want to tell him about. He told me about how he had broken his mother's amulet, how he refused to speak to the Arl when he visited Alistair in the Chantry. I could easily sympathize with the anger of a disowned youth.

We talked for a long while, not waking anyone for their watches. Until Alistair finally ended his story and, watching me from where he sat beside me, spoke, "What...what about you, Gwen?"

I groaned inwardly. I couldn't lie to him, not after everything. But I didn't feel like I could tell him the truth either. Or I was afraid to.

He frowned a little and touched my arm, "Are you...you don't have to tell me, you know."

"It isn't that, Alistair. It's just...you won't believe me," I laughed a little, feeling awkward and more than a little afraid.

"I'm the bastard child of a king, turned Templar, turned Grey Warden. What...what else is there?" Alistair chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. I smiled wanly at him and ran a hand back through my now-dry hair.

"I'm not...from here," I breathed, feeling a my chest constrict and my stomach flip upside down.

"That's pretty obvious," he responded, sounding confident and curious but not judgmental.

"I mean... I'm not from Ferelden, or Thedas, or...well, any place that I have heard any of you talk about. I don't even...I don't even know if I'm from now. I'm from a place without magic, without darkspawn, without..." I shook my head, not able to look at him any more. "There were kings and things hundreds of years ago, where I'm from. But never darkspawn, at least not that I know of."

There was silence beside me as I pulled my knees to my chest and held them there with my arms around them. I rested my chin on my knees and clenched my jaw shut tightly, entirely unable to look at Alistair.

And then he started laughing, "You know, if you didn't want to tell me, you could have just said so. But that's quite a story."

I frowned slightly and turned to look at him, the his face changing almost immediately as his eyes scanned mine. "Oh..." he breathed, eyes widening. "You...that wasn't a joke."

I thought, for a moment, about letting him believe that it was. It was easier that way, but some part of me wanted him to know.

"You think I'm crazy," I laughed a little, the sound awkward and tense. "I know I have to sound crazy."

"Well, it actually...explains some things. Like why you can't light a fire. Or shoot a bow. Or don't know anything about Ferelden. And why you were wearing those odd clothes when you came out o the Wilds."

This time we both laughed and it felt a little less scary. He was weirdly okay with my explanation, although he asked a lot of questions. He seemed to believe me, although he was a little hesitant to accept some of my stories. It was also difficult to express some of the differences – especially cars. Eventually we forced ourselves to sleep because otherwise we would have been totally useless, although I wasn't entirely sure how I would feel in the morning. I kind of wished I hadn't told him as we separated to sleep on our own bedrolls. Soon, we would have enough to purchase tents for everyone.

Aedan took the final watch and, to my surprise, woke me in the morning. "Gwen...I thought we could go hunting together this morning."

I was groggy and still very tired. What I would have given for a cup of coffee is not appropriate to list here. Suffice it to say that my soul was at the top of the list. But I donned my armor and weapons, leaving my bedroll and pack alone. We took off slowly into the surrounding woods.

"I heard...some of what you said to Alistair last night," Aedan spoke tentatively, his words more factual than accusatory. "About where you are from."

"I...I..." I stammered, frowning. "I don't really know what to say, Aedan. You probably think I'm crazy. I'm sure Alistair does and he's just not telling me."

"I don't. I don't really know what to think about it but I don't think you're crazy. I doubt he does either. We talked about it, a little. Before you told him. There were just...things that didn't make sense. But you're obviously not from Thedas. There are a lot of accents here, but none like yours. And your clothes, from the first day at Ostagar? It isn't..." He paused, shaking his head. "I just wish you would have told me."

I was dumfounded a little. I hadn't realized that I had been so obvious, although I imagine I did stick out like a sore thumb that first day. And for many after it, honestly. Still, I had no idea that he and Alistair had tried to work out the truth. But more poignant than this was the almost-hurt on his face.

"I didn't...I didn't want to tell anyone. I don't have any idea what happened or why I am here. At first, I thought it was some weird dream. But I don't...I think something happened. I don't know how, but I'm really here. And it's terrifying. I was trying to... I don't know. But I only told Alistair because he asked."

We had stopped a ways into the cover of the trees. I guessed we weren't really hunting. Aedan turned to me and watched me, looking confused and a little hurt still. But resolute.

"I'm sorry," I finalized, feeling very small. "I should have told you both a long time ago."

"You don't need to apologize," Aedan spoke, putting his hands gently on my shoulders. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me too. I could be wrong in thinking this, but you have become something like a sister. Throwing hurt people together in such a way will either cause love or hate. And I want you to know that you are important to me, whether you're from Thedas or some far-away land. You are my sister now, Gwen. And I need you to know that you can trust me."

That was nothing like what I had expected but I would have lied if I had said I wasn't extremely relieved and more than a little touched by his words. Aedan and I spent time together, certainly. He, Alistair, and I got along very well. We enjoyed each others' company and I knew we had all become friends very quickly. I did not, however, realize that Aedan had decide that I was his new family. It was a good feeling, to belong. I began to realize then, as I threw what I thought was propriety of the time to the wind and hugged him tightly around the middle despite our weapons and armor, that I wasn't alone. And I had no reason to feel that way any longer.

Aedan stalled a minute before he wrapped his arms around me too, our armor clunking together. "Thank you, Aedan. And I promise, no more secrets."

Alistair's secret was not mine to tell, so it didn't count.


	10. All Manner of Dead Things

That day after breakfast, everything felt a little odd. Between knowing the truth about Alistair and he and Aedan knowing the truth about me, I felt like everyone was being lied to. But I wasn't about to spill the beans.

Finally, around lunch time, we came upon a scout just outside of the town. He told us about the state of both the village and the castle, or rather the fact that no one knew much about the latter. Alistair was practically chomping at the bit to get started.

Morrigan, of course, scoffed. Sten, however, looked mightily put out.

"These are not darkspawn. We do not have time for such frivolities."

Alistair looked as though he would punch the much larger man, but Aedan stayed his hand and gave me the 'fix it' look that I was growing all too accustomed to. I groaned audibly but turned to Sten. Why me?

I looked at the much taller man squarely, summoning more confidence than I felt.

"We are going to help this village because, not only is it the right thing to do, but we also need the Arl's help. If you or anyone else," I glanced at Morrigan , who seemed to care little for my speech, "deems this cause unworthy, you can sit here and twiddle your damn thumbs for all I care."

"What is this thumb-twiddling?" Sten asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He seemed to miss the entire point, but it didn't mattered. I rolled my eyes and showed him the motion, to which he harrumphed a little but, in the end, followed us down the sloping hill that led us into Redcliffe.

We discovered in short order that the scout's account was only half of the issue. Once we were informed of all of the difficulties, we split into groups to divide and conquer everything we needed to.

We went through the motions, meeting Alistair's not-uncle Teagan (a bizarrely flirtatious man, considering everything going on), whom informed us more on the search for the fabled Sacred Urn of Ashes or whatever it was called. Andraste's ashes. Something. The thing I paid closest attention to was the fact that it was yet another thing that I figured we'd have to do. Which meant that it was another thing I would have to figure out how to defend to Sten, if not others. I was going to do this for Alistair, even if it wasn't going to help us in the long-term. Aedan would understand, I thought. Leliana too, probably, but Sten and Morrigan? Who knew. I didn't want to lose the few allies I had tenuously attached myself to.

On our way out of the chantry, we came across both the woman that owned the cache we had found in the Wilds before the fall of Ostagar. She was distraught by what our offer meant, but glad to have it regardless. There were many people, full of sorrow and despair, but another caught us. A female, not too much younger than myself. She was crying rather hysterically over a brother she could not locate. I assured her, if we found him, we would send him to her straight away. That was all I could promise. I wanted to tell her we would find him but I was already swimming in too many lies.

Sten disapproved of everything I did. Which was, really, not awful. He questioned me but I ignored him. I would have rather had Mather with us, regardless of Sten's size. However, offered to join Alistair and I. Aedan led everyone else, as both he and Alistair were the most familiar with Redcliffe. He was in charge of organizing with the mayor and the knights as he had the most military background. Which left the three of us to, essentially, snoop.

After we found the girl's brother and sent him back to the Chantry, we happened upon a general store. Inside, we found several casks of oil that, if my knowledge of rudimentary fire served me at all, I believed had potential to serve us well. I made sure to tell the mayor.

The first thing Aedan said when we all found each other again was, "We owe the dwarf gold and we owe the blacksmith his daughter."

"I hate you," I groaned. "But fine. And where is this daughter?"

"In the castle. I figured we were going anyway."

"And what happens if we don't find her?" I asked, more than a little afraid of the answer.

"I don't think I want to know," Alistair responded, watching our exchange.

"Well, I don't suppose it matters much right now. First thing's first, let's kill some creepy crawlies."

We started at the top of the hill that led to Redcliffe, the oil barrels just waiting for Morrigan to light them on fire. She, Alistair, Sten, and I stood with the dwarf we had bribed and his men. Leliana worked with an archer down the path and Aedan led the men in front of the chantry with the elf they had coerced and Mather.

And then came the skeletons. Seeing walking piles of bones with weapons charging us was entirely different than simply hearing about it.

It wasn't until the heat of the flames roared up, obscuring the skeletons from my view for a brief second, that I was able to swallow my fear and confusion to knock my arrow and to take down as many of the approaching creatures as I could.

It seemed like they would never stop coming at us and I thought I would run out of arrows before we ran out of enemies.

And then Leliana's signal, a flaming arrow shot straight into the sky, signified that Aedan and the soldiers needed us.

I looked to our dwarven companion and he nodded – we had discussed the entire concept prior to the battle.

Finally, miraculously, the skeleton army seemed to be dwindling from our side. I left Morrigan behind and made Sten and Alistair lead the way down.

The skeletons were coming from the docks.

It was a long, long night. But somehow, brilliantly, no one died. Many were injured, including several of the knights, but no one other than those creatures lay on the ground as we regrouped the following day.

And then Teagan approached us with a plan, leading us up to the old windmill we had become familiar with the night before. Just as he was explaining his signet ring's usefulness, a pretty blonde woman came running up with a soldier at her side.

"Teagan," she called. An accent, not unlike Leliana'. And then she saw Alistair. Her face changed and I knew immediately who she was. It took every ounce of willpower in me to not punch her squarely in the nose, like Loghain's soldier in Lothering.

The woman expressed an immediate need for Teagan to accompany her, alone, back to the castle. Teagan agreed without hesitation. He gave me the ring as Isolde turned back around and, despite my better judgment, we took off to find the secret passage and meet them there.

"This is a foolish waste of time," Sten grunted as we pushed away cobwebs and defeated more skeletons.

"Shut up or go away," I grumbled, having absolutely no interest in an argument at that moment. Either he realized I would be no fun to banter with or he took what I said to heart because he remained, slightly less than silent.

Not too far into the passageway, we came upon a dungeon. Three or four skeletons were huddled in front of one cell in particular and I took one out – not an easy thing to do with an arrow – before the calls for help began. We made relatively quick work of them and finally approached the cell.

A man stood inside with sickly pale skin and oiled hair, in robes like Wynne, and a bloody lip.

"Thank you," he stammered, wide-eyed as he pressed close to the bars. "I thought I was going to die down here."

"What did you do?" Aedan asked from my side. The man, Jowan, explained the entire situation. Alistair looked as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Aedan appeared similarly disgusted.

"We'll need you, eventually, I imagine. Best to keep to keep you where we can find you."

"I…I can't stay here!" He scrambled, reaching for me.

"I suppose you could come with us."

"And fight?" he asked, swallowing nervously.

"Or stay here. It's clear back the way we came and we'll only let one or two back here to pester you."

Aedan let out a small chuckle and we left the rather terrified blood mage (Aedan's head shake suggested this was a bad thing to be) alone in his cage. I wasn't entirely sure if I believed we should have left him. It was, after all, Isolde's fault.

It was chaos. Everything was wrong, especially the little boy speaking with an ethereal voice. And Teagan, fighting us after his rendition of the chicken dance. Once everything calmed down, though – and Aedan, unfortunately, knocked Teagan unconscious for a short time – we were able to talk. The guards brought us Jowan and our options were discussed.

Alistair seemed incredibly opposed to the death of Isolde to save her son and Aedan was not a fan at all of the blood magic ritual that was being suggested.

"Let me say this one thing before we move on," I started, facing Isolde. "You are to blame. I know much of your past, but that is not the issue here-"

"-how dare-"

"I am going to save your husband and your son. Shut up," I growled, stepping slightly forward and not looking away from the target of my verbal assault. The guards jerked a little but Teagan shook his head. "This is your fault. Your husband's state of being may not be, but what has happened here – the deaths of your townspeople, the state your son is in…your selfishness, however noble at the core, is the reason for this plague. And I would love to be able to walk away with a clean conscience after using you for this ritual. However, I feel that a lifetime of living with this knowledge is a better and more fitting sentence than death. Know that I am not sparing your life for any other reason, Arlessa."

Everyone was silent for a long time and I could feel every single pair of eyes burning into me. Isolde looked torn between tears, which were spilling, and very rational anger. But I simply relaxed my shoulders and turned to Jowan.

"You said there was another way?"


	11. Alone in the Dark

Isolde barely looked at me while we finished discussing our plans. It was decided that we would go to the Circle Tower to retrieve mages and mana to perform the same ritual that Jowan had suggested using Isolde's life.

"But what about the castle and the village?" Teagan asked, frowning.

"I'll stay," I offered, glancing to Alistair and Aedan.

"I will too," Alistair chorused. "The two of us should be able to keep everything in order."

"Jowan will stay with us, in case anything goes awry," I added, looking to the nervous man who merely nodded.

"This is another goose chase," Sten grunted, folding his thick arms over his chest.

"Actually, it isn't. We needed to go to the Circle anyway to get the mages to honor their treaty. Aedan can see to that while you gather people to perform the ritual."

Sten didn't seem too pleased that I had an answer for everything, but Alistair did. And Aedan did too. Morrigan wasn't particularly happy about going to the Circle, but she made no big stink about it and Leliana was excited to see more of Ferelden, especially a part that she would otherwise be unable to see.

Aedan took me aside before they were going to take off and I handed over the treaty. "Be careful," I smiled at him, hand resting over his. "And please, for the love of all that is holy, hurry back. I don't know long I can hold out against my desire to seriously maim or otherwise injure that woman."

Aedan barked out a laugh and wrapped an arm around me in a hug. "Don't worry, Gwen. We should be back in only the time it takes to travel, unless some brilliantly awful thing has befallen the Circle."

The first day, Alistair and I helped to right things in the village and the castle. The blacksmith's daughter had been returned to him and so he was very much willing to help us in our efforts. Even the dwarf pitched in, although the elf was long gone by the time we returned to the inn that Leliana had fingered him in.

We, regardless of the look of disdain we had received from Isolde, decided it was best to stay in the castle. We stayed in the servant's quarters, however, as the demon was very itchy about anyone coming near to the sick Arl. We wandered the castle a bit, though, as there was little to be done after dark in the village and sleep was not quick to come.

Alistair told me stories in almost every room; most especially in the study. We entered and moved around the room, eventually coming to stand behind the Arl's desk. Alistair stood behind me, looking distractedly out the window as my eyes scanned the top of the desk.

Something shiny caught my eye in the light of the candle that I held and I leaned in, catching up the necklace before Alistair turned and questioned me.

"I think..Alistair, is this your mother's amulet?" I held it up by the chain, the mysterious blue gem swirling of its own accord within the ornate silver pendant.

Alistair's eyes widened and his hand reached out hesitantly before he slid the amulet into his palm. I released the chain and he held the trinket in his hand, simply staring at it. "I don't…where did you find this?"

"Just on the desk. I saw the silver and thought, what the hell?"

"I don't…I smashed it to a million pieces, Gwen."

"Perhaps the Arl cares more for you than you thought he did," I smiled a little, reaching out to touch his wrist lightly.

Alistair merely nodded a little and swallowed deeply as he lit his hand fall, his thumb moving over the stone in the amulet every so often. We made our way slowly and silently back to where we had decided to take up. It wasn't particularly proper that the two of us shared a room, but we took the one closest to the dungeon. Isolde refused to let Jowan sleep anywhere but in his cage and we had to make sure he stayed alive, at least.

The bedrolls they gave us were barely more comfortable than the ones we had traveled in with but it didn't really matter. It was warmer inside, anyway – even if the floor was harder. We lay side-by side, separated a little, with a candle flickering between us. Alistair cleared his throat and rolled onto his side, turning towards me. I mimicked him, propping my head up with my elbow.

"Thank you," he spoke quietly, the amulet still in his hand.

"I didn't-"

"Not for that. Not really. But for…for saving Isolde. What you said…it was true. And I know you said some of it for me. And…no one has ever really stood up for me like that, even if you didn't say that was why. But…thank you for convincing everyone else to go along with it. To save everyone. Or to try, anyway."

"You don't need to thank me, Alistair," I smiled and him and reached across the distance to again gently touch his hand. "I didn't do anything that didn't need to be done."

"That isn't true. It would have been easier to just let Jowan do his ritual."

"Probably, but we needed to go to the Circle anyway. We're killing two birds with one stone. Or not killing any, actually," I snorted a little, amused by the ridiculousness of my own statement. Alistair laughed a little too and let his amulet pile in front of him so that he could take my hand.

"I just wanted you to know that I…that I appreciate what you're doing and what you've done. For me, for Eamon, for Connor…for Ferelden. You're incredible, you know that?"

"Incredibly lucky is more like it," I laughed again and squeezed his hand gently. "I'm only doing what feels right, Alistair, and there's no way for me to know if that's actually the best choice. But it's all I've got to go on, especially when you and Aedan defer to me all the time. By the way, why is that?"

Color rose in Alistair's cheeks and he looked away sheepishly for a second before he turned his face back to me. "I'm not really a leader, which is why I do it. I don't…the idea scares me. And I'm scared enough already, to be honest. And Aedan? I don't know. We just kind of decided to let you take the reins. You are kind of a natural. And I doubt Morrigan would be so amenable to anything I have to say. She would probably listen to Aedan, but I don't know about Sten. I think Aedan would probably say the wrong thing and then there would be some sort of fight on our hands."

I couldn't help but laugh as he continued on, acting out the way the scene would play out between the two of him. I had to admit, despite the fact that I felt very scared and out of the place most of the time, the reasons he cited seemed to be pretty true. Even if I wished it was just some prank and someone else was about to take the lead any moment.

"That reminds me," Alistair began after the questions of my qualifications were all answered, "there's…we're going to have to go to Denerim sometime, aren't we?"

"I imagine so. Even if not, I can probably come up with an excuse. Why do you ask?"

"There's someone…in Denerim that I would like to look up."

I raised an eyebrow at him and sat up a little. I couldn't quell the tiny amount of jealousy that sprouted up in my stomach at the idea but I squished it back down and smiled at him curiously, teasing, "Not an ex-lover of yours?"

"N-n-no!" He sat up too, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. She's…she's my sister. Or half-sister. I've known about her for a while but I've never…"

"Don't worry," I smiled solemnly at him, struck with too many feelings and memories. "I know how you feel. We can go see her, Alistair. I'm sure we can manage some reason to go there. And if not, I'll just…tell them we're going." I laughed again, trying to distract from my statement. As much as we had talked about where I was from, or my life before, I had skirted around the issue of my family and intended to continue to do so. It wasn't something I had any desire to talk about, in my own time and place or in this one. Alistair didn't press me, but he looked like he wanted to know. More because he wanted me to talk about it than because he was curious, I think.

"Can…can I ask you something else?" he started up again, some time after we had decided to lay down and try at sleep again. It wasn't working any better then, even with the candle out. I opened my eyes, adjusted to the darkness but not so good that I could see much other than vague outlines. The stars and moon outside the tiny window offered little light.

"Of course," I stifled a yawn, staring at the ceiling as I folded my hands beneath my head.

"Are you…do you…how do you feel about Morrigan?" The way his words came out, I felt like that wasn't the question he meant to ask.

Humoring him, however, I responded. "She is useful, to be certain. And pleasant, in her own way. Not easy to get along with, but I think that is due largely in part to her upbringing. I trust her, though. I don't know if I should, but I do."

"And Sten?"

"Ugh," I laughed a little, but shrugged in the darkness. "He is a stalwart fighter but more than a little scary. He listens to me when I make logical points, though. And only complains a little when I make moral ones."

"I felt a little guilty about making you stand up to him about Redcliffe," he confessed with his odd sort of humor evident in his voice.

"I hope you did! I thought he was going to step on my or something," I laughed more. "But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he either helps or just leaves, because honestly, that's the truth of it all. We either need help or people to get out of our way. I would hate to have to fight any one of our companions to get where we need to go, but we have things that need to be done."

"What about Leliana?"

"I adore Leliana," I smiled, nodding to myself. "I don't know if I believe her dream-bit, but it doesn't matter. And I'm just waiting for her to tell me her story, because I bet it's almost as good as mine. She's an incredible fighter and almost as good of a teacher. And she is a total sweetheart."

"You two do seem to get along really well," he drifted off a little. Finally he cleared his throat and said what I imagine he wanted to say to begin with. "What about Aedan?"

"Aedan is brilliant," I heard Alistair's sort of sigh in response but continued. "He knows too – about me, I mean. He heard you and I talking and asked about it. He was disappointed I hadn't told him too, without being asked about it. But I have to say I am incredibly glad he is with us." I paused and turned over, facing him although I could barely make out his face. "That isn't what you were asking about, though, was it?"

Alistair chuckled nervously and I saw his arm move – I imagine he was scratching his head like he did sometimes when he felt uncomfortable. "No…you caught me."

"Don't worry," I smiled at him in the darkness. "He has all but adopted me as his little sister, Alistair."

"Good."

"But…why?" I asked, teasing him a little.

He groaned a little and, after some sounds of movement and adjustments, the candle was lit once more. He moved across the space between us, kneeling in front of me on the edge of my bedroll. I had sat up at the lighting of the candle and now kneeled in front of him, as it seemed a little awkward to sit so low in front of him.

"Because…" he sighed heavily and took up one of my hands in each of his, his amulet still beside his bedroll. "Because despite everything we're going through, despite everything you have already gone through…you can still laugh. And you can make me laugh. When I look at you, I see hope. With everything that is going on around us, this probably isn't the best time…but…Gwen. I would…"

I thought about finishing his sentence, because I thought I could, but I wanted him to. I wanted him to say it. It had been around a month since we had met and we had spent almost every hour of every day together.

"We've been thrown together in this mad scramble for some kind of fix to this impossible situation and you're always…perfect. Even covered in darkspawn blood, you are absolutely beautiful. And you always know what to say to fix things." He shook his head and let one of my hands go to touch my cheek. It was a wonderful moment, quite like a movie. I had been in a relationship for a short period of time before falling into Thedas, trying desperately to make it work. But everything with Alistair had been easy, regardless of the surroundings.

"Especially…especially after what you've done here," he shook his head a little, his thumb running over my cheek. "Gwen…can I kiss you?"

"Yes. And Alistair?"

He had leaned forward a little but halted, watching me curiously. "Yes?"

"Don't ask next time," I grinned but it was covered in a moment by his lips.

It was a lovely first kiss for us; I had long-since learned to stop caring about my hygiene like I once had, but in that moment I wished that oral hygiene was more easily accessible, at least for myself. Those thoughts didn't last long, though, because Alistair was holding me and kissing me, gently but affectionately.

And it was, like he had said, perfect.


	12. Tea and Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Isolde is given what-for and Gwen is taken down a peg.

I wasn't really certain how to navigate whatever was going on between Alistair and I the next morning. We woke up on our separate bedrolls after an odd but interesting 'good night' exchange. The sun rose and so did we. When Alistair looked over at me, stretching after the first restful and dreamless night's sleep in quite some time, he smiled. I felt warm from my toes to my head and couldn't keep the stupid smile off of my face either.

But we didn't kiss. We didn't hold hands; we bathed and dressed separately, heading out to help the village again. The day ended slowly and we were finally convinced into joining the majority of the villagers in the tavern at the top of the hill. I was as much of a drinker as most college students, but I had only had ale in Ferelden once – when Leliana bought Alistair and I some in Lothering. And even then, I had only had a small amount of the stuff in the mug.

The soldiers, villagers, and innkeepers kept Alistair and I in ale until it felt like I was swimming. I knew I was a step beyond tipsy as a large group of us managed to make our way out of the tavern and skid haphazardly down the hill, arms draped across shoulders of whomever was closest. Alistair's arm found its way around my middle, his body warm against mine through the simple trousers and shirt both of us wore. I was out of place without armor or a dress as a woman, but I was very much not going to ask Isolde from anything of the like. So my traveling clothes would have to do.

Everyone, except myself, was singing various lines from songs I didn't know about places I hadn't ever heard of. But it was joyful and brilliant, the night we all shared. It was like a party, a celebration of still being alive. And it didn't matter that the rest of our group and the boy's salvation wouldn't be in Redcliffe for a few more days, because everything was okay right then. And it was still okay when Alistair and I found our respective bedrolls. And it was grand that Alistair chose not to kiss me because, as he explained with a tiny slur, he didn't want to "cheep-cheep-cheeaaapeeennn anything because it was still so new".

I fell asleep with a stupid grin on my face, despite Alistair's fair bit of snoring and the fact that I had neglected to remove my boots.

I was not so lucky the next day, as I was plagued with watery dreams of darkspawn and death before finally waking up with a headache that rivaled an arrow to the forehead.

I groaned audibly and rolled over, pulling out the fabric that served as my pillow to cover my head.

Alistair stirred and laughed at me a little, "New to ale?"

"..hush," I hissed into my bedroll, curling into a ball. "The sun, it burns."

He chuckled more but I didn't remove myself from my cocoon until he left and came back again, a dull clink next to me followed by his voice telling me he had brought me water and food.

"Fortunately for you, we have accomplished most everything we can in the village. Now we can just…sort of wander about and try to stay out of trouble until everyone gets back. Which means an easy day, full of dull noises and little light. If you want, of course."

"Let's…let's just put something in the window and lay in bed all day," I murmured, peeking out from beneath my cover and inching a hand pathetically towards the mug.

Alistair's face looked one part confused and one part curious as he settled beside me to eat his own breakfast. "Is that a serious suggestion?"

"At this moment? Very much so. What I wouldn't give for some aspirin," I laughed a little and then winced, the sound hurting my head more.

"What's that?"

"Medicine. Makes headaches go away."

"Oh, healing potions will do that too."

I sat up, probably too quickly, and glared at him, only slightly serious. "And when did you plan on telling me that, hmm?"

"…You never asked?" he grinned sheepishly, laughing as he nodded his head to the water. "It's already in there, anyway. Just drink it all and you'll be fine in no time. But, you know, staying in bed all day is still an option."

I felt myself blushing but decided to see just how serious he was. "Well, if we're going to do it, now would be the best time. We have plausible deniability and there's no one around that would really mind."

Alistair's face reddened and he all but spat out his water before swallowing audibly. His little boy smile returned and he let out a nervous chuckle, "Well, I….I think it might be best-"

"Oh, you're right," I rolled my eyes. "I forgot. We have to…do…something else."

He watched me blankly for a moment before he burst into laughter. My headache having faded, I laughed too. After the giggles had subsided from the both of us, we managed to finish our breakfasts and get dressed for a day of wandering about.

Not long before lunch, I wished we had decided to stay in bed all day like my hangover-addled brain had suggested. One of Isolde's guards found me and, none too pleasantly, directed me toward where Isolde sat in a parlor, secluded from the rest of the goings-on of the castle. Alistair was left to his own devices as I was led to what I was certain to be my imminent doom.

Isolde sat, straight-backed and regal, in a chair in front of a large window. The room was beautiful, an ornate rug covering much of the floor. A tea tray was settled atop a small wooden table between Isolde's chair and an empty one. She did not stand when I entered, but gestured to the chair beside her.

"Sit."

"Please?" I snorted, rolling my eyes and taking up the chair. I was walking on thin ice; I may not have had much experience with the rich or the royal, but I knew that I was definitely not acting appropriately.

"Have you spent no time in the presence of nobility?"

"Nope," I responded. I had no desire to play to her whims, even as her mouth tightened to form a thin, angry line. She cleared her throat and waved over a young girl with pointy ears that I hadn't noticed for her silence from the corner of the room. "Tea," she demanded. She glanced at me and I nodded once before looking up at the girl. "Yes, a tea, please."

The girl poured the brown liquid into two cups before Isolde dismissed her from the room. Isolde held the dainty cup with her pinky finger extended, like in so many movies. I tried hard not to laugh and then, feeling defiant, held the cup like a big oaf in both hands with no regard to manners.

"There are customs here, Warden."

"I imagine there are. There are also these things called manners. And I don't mean your kind," I watched her with a small smile before I sipped the still-hot tea. "And call me Gwen. It's my name, after all."

"You may continue to call me Arlessa," she glanced over me with some type of disdain. I held in my snort.

"Of course. Now, Arlessa, to what do I owe this immense pleasure of a private audience?"

"Your condescending tone is greatly unappreciated."

"Your condescending ex-" I stopped, huffing. I was about to cross a line I wasn't sure I was ready to. "I apologize. I will try to be a little more pleasant."

"Thank you. I asked you here to speak to you about what you have done." I didn't say anything and instead sipped my tea some more. She continued, "What you said the other day was entirely inappropriate but I appreciate what you are doing for my son and my family."

"What I said was true," I clenched my jaw, lowering the tea to my lap as I turned to look at her more directly. She tensed and looked like she was about to speak but I lifted a hand. "I admit that the way in which I said it, both the words and the location, were less than appropriate. However, what I said was nothing less than true. I will not apologizing for speaking the truth but I will apologize for doing it so publicly. And you don't have to thank me, Arlessa. If anyone should be thanked, it would be Alistair. I knew he would never forgive me if I did anything else."

Isolde looked taken aback a little, at first by my bluntness and finally by my revelation of Alistair's care. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, seemingly stunned.

"In truth, I think you owe him one hell of an apology for the way you treated him as a child."

"You know nothing of-"

"I know plenty," I ground out, narrowing my eyes at her.

"You know nothing my past," she finalized, lifting a slightly shaky hand to touch at her hairline. "You are not from Ferelden, I assume." I nodded, curious, and she pressed on. "Then you may or may not know about the Orlesian Occupation of Ferelden. I am, as you can most likely tell, Orlesian. My family took over Redcliffe during the Occupation. I met Eamon," here her voice took on both a sad and happy tone. Sad, I imagine, for the state her husband was in. But it was easy, despite my misgivings about her, that she loved him. "And I could not bear to leave when the Orlesians were pushed out. It has not been easy, by any means. Too many still remember what the empire did here."

"So you were concerned," I started, talking out of turn yet again to the displeasure of Isolde, "that someone had pushed the Arl into something…less than appropriate for a married man, causing Alistair to be born."

Isolde's face reddened and then paled; she swallowed audibly before nodding a little.

"Again, I understand why you did what you did, but that is still no excuse to treat Alistair in such a way. How in the world is it his fault who his parents may or may not be? We have no choice in the matter and you of all people should understand that."

"You really must learn how to speak to nobility," she shook her head a little, sipping her tea. But she didn't disagree with me – at least no aloud, at any rate.

"How is Connor?" I asked without being bidden, apparently another no-no. But she responded anyway as I lifted my cup to my lips again.

"The demon appears to be at bay, for the most part. He stays in the hallway outside of our bedroom, making sure no one goes near Eamon. How has the reconstruction gone in the village?"

"Fortunately no one died in the last round," I responded without any sort of accusation in my voice. "We were able to clean up quite a bit over the last two days. Some of it will take a little longer; a few of the houses need repairs. But everything seems to be righting itself. The castle appears to be doing better, also."

"And what of your companions?"

"I haven't heard anything. Aedan said it takes about two days to travel to the Circle on foot, so they should be arriving soon if they haven't already. I imagine they will be back shortly."

"And the mage?" she asked, making a small show of her disdain on her features as she sipped her tea.

"He is shaken up, of course. But he's alive."

"Until Eamon wakes up," she inserted, frowning openly.

"I wouldn't be so hasty to kill him, Arlessa. He was pushed into awful circumstances and, don't forget, he isn't the reason Connor was possessed. That was just a really bad situation." Isolde looked like she wanted to disagree, but I pushed forward. "But on the subject of Jowan – he was hired to poison your husband. I think it would be best to keep him alive and willing to testify to such things."

"The word of a known blood mage is worth little," Isolde responded, shaking her head.

"But the word of a known blood mage, combined with that of everyone that has witnessed what has gone on here in regards to your husband, will more likely than not stand for something. I can't imagine that you would take my word without consulting the Arl, once we wake him up."

"Do you…do you think you will be able to?"

"I think I can try," I shrugged a little, suddenly feeling awful for the look of pure hope on the woman's features. "Once we found out where the Urn is, we can go to retrieve it. If those ashes will work, then we will have succeeded. I can't attest to the healing powers of the ashes, but I can assure you that I will do everything I can to bring them back here."

"And what of your companions?"

"They will either come along or stay behind, it's up to them. I can't make anyone do anything they don't want to and I will go by myself, if necessary. I just told you I would do something. I wouldn't be a very useful person if I didn't follow through, would I?"

"If you like, I can procure the maps and notes we have from our scholars and knights. I can put them in Eamon's study for you to look over."

"That would be very helpful," I nodded and felt suddenly a little less awful about promising Isolde the moon. I mean, it wasn't like every other person that had tried to find these things hadn't shown up again or anything.

After finishing my tea, I was thanked once more and excused finally. I found Alistair pacing the hallway outside of the study and I stopped, looking at him with a feigned expression of terror.

"What…what happened, Gwen?"

I tried to come up with something terrible but laughed instead, my expression breaking into a calm one. "Not much. I told her exactly what I think of her. Well, mostly."

"You're lucky she didn't order your execution," Alistair shook his head, chuckling a little as I moved forward and we fell in-step.

"She told me I need to learn how to talk to nobility."

"It's probably true – Teagan is one thing, but there are a lot of nobles that wouldn't take too kindly to how you spoke to her the other day. Or, I imagine, how you spoke to her just now."

"But I also…kind of told her we'd find the Urn," I responded sheepishly, ignoring Alistair's warning that compounded Isolde's. He stopped and looked at me, hard.

"You…did what?"

"I told her we'd look for it, at any rate. After everyone comes back."

"Sten is not going to like that."

"Then he can stay here. Or somewhere else."

"What about Aedan?"

"What about him? He'll understand. We need the Arl if we're ever going to figure this thing out. Not only are we facing an entire horde, from the sounds of it we're facing Loghain too. I'd say we could try and see if there is anyone in the area worth going to see, as far as the treaties are concerned, but I really think it's more important to find the ashes and bring them back as soon as possible. If we can find them, I mean."

"And this is why we appointed you the unofficial leader, Gwen. Do you listen to yourself talk? You have no idea what good you're doing here, and you have no reason to care so much."

"That's not true," I smiled at him, folding my arms across my chest as we stood across from each other in the hallway.

His eyes, amber colored with an odd sort of flash of green every not and then, watched me as he remained silent. Sunlight from the window dappled his hair, lighting up strands of blond and red simultaneously. He was broad even in plainclothes, the perfect picture of a true man. He may have been scared, but he admitted it which took much more courage than many people possessed. If he thought I was beautiful, he must have been a god. It might have been the fact that we were thrown together in such a haphazard way, or that I needed someone to cling to in the crazy world I had fallen into. Or maybe it was just that this was exactly what the both of us needed.

"I have every reason."


	13. Good-Bye Kiss

The next afternoon, a messenger rode hard up to the castle gates. Alistair and I were outside, heading back to the castle for lunch with Lady Isolde. After our conversation yesterday, she seemed to be warming up to us a little and had invited us for a late tea. After tea, Alistair and I would resume pouring over the notes and maps that she had laid out for us in Eamon's study. We had spent most of the morning in a likewise fashion, deciding to stretch our legs for a little before we ate. Going from traveling every day to doing little but some rebuilding and lazing about was turning me soft, I think.

The messenger pulled his horse to a hard stop not too far away from us and both he and the horse looked rather exhausted as he dismounted and approached us.

"I am looking for the Wardens that are staying at the castle."

"You've found them," I smiled a little and took the paper from him. He looked at me for a moment and then Alistair cleared his throat, gesturing to the change purse at my side. I withdrew the first thing that I grabbed, which happened to be a gold piece, and handed it over to a very surprised-looking elf. "Thank you. Would you like to stop for lunch or anything?"

"No, I couldn't-"

"There's a pub on the hill on the way out of the village. Tell them you came to see us and I imagine that they will cut you a deal." The elf man nodded his head, took a small bow, and then deftly placed himself upon his horse before he turned about and took off again.

"I wonder who it's from," Alistair mused as I broke the seal on the letter to unfold it.

_Gwen and Alistair,_

_We have come to the Circle at a most inopportune time. It seems that they need our help just as much as the Arl does. I won't reveal too much, lest someone happens upon this letter before either of you. I will say, though, that it will take us a few days longer than anticipated to return. I will tell you all about what has transpired when we see each other again._

_I hope that all is well in Redcliffe, or as well as it can be considering the circumstances we left you in. We will return with all haste when our services are no longer needed. Considering the state we found this place in, we may need to consider the help of the Templars rather than the mages. But this is something that will be decided in time, depending on how successful our efforts are here._

_Don't burn down the village without us._

_-Aedan_

I frowned a little as I handed the letter over to Alistair. I had read it aloud but thought he might like his own once-over. He scanned it briefly before handing it back to me and, as I folded it to put it into a safe place, he shook his head, "It must be bad. To say that the mages won't be able to honor the treaty, I can only imagine what is going on."

"They'll be all right, though? I feel as though we should join them."

"I'm sure Aedan would have asked us to come if he felt like they couldn't handle it on their own. "

I wasn't, but I took Alistair's words to heart and prayed to every deity from there and home that our companions would return safely.

It was time for lunch and, on the way, Alistair and I decided we should tell Isolde. He suggested that I approached the subject, as he was still unsure of where he stood with her. I understood but still hated that I was the one that would receive her death-glare for the unfortunate news.

We sat all together at one end of the table, Lady Isolde heading the table with Alistair and I sitting across from each other. She asked us after the village and we told her, explained that everything was coming along well. We asked after Connor and she said that she hadn't seen him much but that was probably good, for now.

And then it was time.

"Arlessa, we received some unfortunate news from our companions today."

Her face fell but she quickly gathered her emotions and turned her steely eyes on me, raising an eyebrow to bade me continue.

"There is a disturbance at the Circle. We don't know of what nature, Aedan – the other Warden in our group – was very subtle, in the event that someone intercepted the letter. But it is going to delay their return for a few days. "

"And what if this 'disturbance', as you put it, means that no one can come to help us?"

Without thinking, I blurted, "I will do it."

This was greeted by silence and wide eyes from both of my dining partners. They knew what I had implied; that I would be the sacrifice for Jowan's ritual. So sincere was my trust in Aedan's abilities, I was putting my life in his hands.

"You can't-"

"Neither can Isolde. We can't force someone to do it; that is so incredibly wrong. If Arl Eamon wakes to his wife dead, it will be impossible to convince him to aid our cause. "

"It almost makes me wish Morrigan knew blood magic so we could sacrifice that rat-faced-"

"Alistair, hush," I frowned, wishing I could touch his hand to calm him. "It won't be a problem. I trust in our companions to do what needs to be done so that we can avoid any bloodshed at all. But if that is what it comes down to, it will be me."

I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience because I knew those words were leaving my mouth but I didn't really know that I was speaking them, if that makes any sense. I was shaking violently, or at least that was how it felt. Outwardly, though, I picked up my small glass of wine without a hitch.

"You can't…" he shook his head, turning to look at Lady Isolde, "You won't let her do it, will you?"

The other woman looked totally stunned. "I…I honestly do not know what to say to this."

"You don't have to say anything," I responded, setting my glass down again. I was calm, too calm. I knew I would break later under the weight of the promise I had made. "Because you haven't got a choice. This is what needs to be done for Ferelden."

No one seemed to have anything to say to that and so, lunch finished quickly and in silence. We excused ourselves from the table and moved towards the study to continue in our efforts. When we got there, I took out an extra piece of parchment and a managed to find my way around a quill. My hand was going to be stained to the wrist, but I'd manage.

When Alistair saw me scribbling long notes, he hovered over his chosen map and looked at me for a long moment.

"What are you doing?"

"In the event that…I have to make good on my promise, it wouldn't do anyone any good if they couldn't use the research we've been doing here. I want to make sure I don't miss any details. "

Alistair stiffened a little before he moved from his side of the desk to stand next to me. "We aren't going to need those notes, Gwen, because you'll be there with us."

"Just in case-"

"Just in case nothing," he growled, his hand wrapping gently around my wrist. "You're not going to die, Gwen. You can't."

"Alistair…" I smiled a little, the sad sort of smile that might as well be a frown, and put the quill to rest to turn and face him. "I'm going to die someday, you know. And this life we're leading…it makes it all the more likely that it will happen sooner than later. If dying this week means that you and Aedan have more of a chance, because of the Arl's help, isn't it better?"

"You don't…there is no coming back from this, Gwen," he frowned and pulled me closer, his hands on my shoulders. "What you're going to do, healing potions can't bring you back. I don't even know if you'll go back…to where you're from, or if you just will…really, truly die. And you can't. I don't…"

"I have to."

"You can't," he groaned, all but crushing me to him in a hug. "I told you that you hold us together; what do you think will happen if you aren't here? You can't die, Gwen. You can't leave me."

I sighed heavily against his chest and wrapped my arms around him to hold him. We stood like that for a long time before the feelings ebbed a little and we separated to continue our work. The air between us was tense with unspoken words but we kept on working until the late hours of the night.

The next couple of days passed in a similar manner, although Alistair seemed to grow more anxious and impatient with every passing hour. He checked constantly for sight or word of our companions and seemed to be watching me closely too. He didn't try to dissuade me, not exactly, but he did rather dote on me while he wasn't looking at me like I was a dying puppy or something.

It quickly got to the point where I couldn't stand it anymore and, while not being able to sleep, I removed myself from my bedroll quietly and began to stalk the deserted castle halls.

I jumped a little when I found Connor in the throne room, seated on the dais with his head in his hands. "Connor?"

He looked up and frowned, to which I moved forward. I walked tentatively, watching for any sign of aggression. Finally I sat beside him. He slipped closer to me and pressed himself to my side. Hesitantly, I slid my arm around his shoulders and held him as he cried.

"It'll be all right, Connor. I promise. "

"No it won't." When he spoke, it didn't sound like the little boy. It sounded like he was speaking into a microphone, the speakers to which were lodged in my brain. I jumped a little, moving to stand with a quickness I didn't know I had. "You have no idea, girl. But I can make it perfect for you. I can give you everything."

If I hadn't seen the death, destruction, and sorrow that this demon had caused, I would be tempted. But no.

"You're wrong, demon. It will be all right."

"Why do you believe so strongly? You have no faith in the Maker, or your own god."

"But I have faith in people. In my friends. In the solidarity of this country."

The demon laughed in Connor's body, an odd sound. It was low and high at the same time. "This country is nothing and certainly not solid. You have men here. Men are out for nothing but themselves."

"That isn't true. There is goodness in men too. And that goodness will save Ferelden."

"Are you prepared to die because of that belief?"

"I am willing."

"But are you prepared?" The demon-possessed child stood then, and ran off to leave me with my thoughts.

Even if I wasn't prepared, I would have to be soon.

The next day, after an incredibly sleepless night, I told Alistair about my interaction from the previous night. Mostly that I thought we should prepare the village for another onslaught.

"I hope Aedan gets back soon," he frowned as we made our way to the study.

The day was uneventful until after dinner, at which point Teagan literally ran into the study, panting and looked rather terrified.

"I have been looking all over for you two. The demon, it's threatening to destroy the village. For good this time."

Alistair looked at me, fear and concern written all over his face. He began shaking his head before I even opened my mouth.

"Get Jowan, Bann Teagan. And Isolde. We have to do this now."

Teagan had apparently not been informed of my decision and so looked incredibly distraught. Before he could disagree or question me, though, I exlclaimed, "Go!" and, very unhappy, he did.

Alistair grabbed my arm as I made to leave right behind Teagan. "Gwen, we don't have to do this. We can fight the skeletons."

"We could," I responded, facing him with a sad look. Tears pricked my eyes, knowing what I was doing. But I didn't have a choice. "But every person that would die would be blood on my hands. I can stop this now, Alistair."

"At least…wait," he tugged me back to him and held my face in his hands. "You mean so much to me already. Let-"

"Absolutely not," I shook my head, covering his hands with mine. "No, Alistair. I will do this and you will go on to win Ferelden. You have to."

"Maker, Gwen," he breathed and, after a long moment of looking into my eyes, he pressed his lips to mine.

It was the perfect good-bye kiss.


	14. For the Love of Blood

We found ourselves in the throne room once more, Connor and his demon miraculously put to sleep. I didn't question how. It didn't matter and I knew it couldn't last long.

Jowan stood, unshackled, between two guards with Isolde and Teagan close by. Isolde had been crying, obvious by the redness of her sad eyes. Teagan, it appeared, had found out between the study and the throne room that it wasn't Isolde that was sacrificing herself for her son.

"Gwen, this isn't necessary," Teagan spoke, shaking his head as he looked from my to the unconscious boy and back again.

"It is." I responded with a frown, my voice finally betraying exactly how terrified I felt. "We have to stop this before something awful happens."

"You dying is awful," Alistair pleaded, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Alistair. Don't make this harder, please," I sighed, turning to look at him. I lifted a hand and touched his scratchy, scruff-covered cheek. "It…"

"Don't tell me it'll be okay," he frowned deeply, his jaw setting into a line.

"But it will," I leaned forward and, despite the fact that he stiffened as I approached, I pressed my lips to his cheek. "Trust me, Alistair."

He looked like he wanted to kill me himself as I moved to stand beside Jowan. I hadn't been wearing armor around the castle because it seemed mostly unnecessary. This was beneficial in that moment as it didn't require me to remove anything; any distractions and it was possible I would lose my nerve. I was shaking so much I doubt I would have been able to remove my armor anyway.

Jowan didn't seem to be doing much better than I was. His skin was pale and there was a sheen of sweat on his face as he turned to face me, drawing his dagger towards me. His hand shook so violently that I thought he might stab me by accident. I offered him a wan smile, more than I thought myself capable of.

"I n-n-need you to open your shirt more," he all but whispered, eyes wide. Alistair made a noise from his position but I didn't dare raise my eyes to look at him. I lifted my hands but couldn't make them work. Without a word, I swiped the dagger from Jowan's hands and sliced the ties that held the tunic closer over my chest. Isolde gasped, probably at the impropriety, but Teagan made a noise of hushing from her side. The tension was so thick, I was surprised any of us could move. It was surreal, the whole moment. I didn't feel like I was in myself; the sounds were muffled, my muscles seemed weak but charged all in the same movement. I handed the dagger back to Jowan with the handle towards him and shrugged my shirt offer of my shoulders.

It settled tightly, shoulders and the tops of my breasts exposed. I would have made a joke, under any other circumstances. But not those ones. Not as Jowan lifted the dagger, swallowing audibly, and murmuring apologies as the knife pressed into the skin just below the left side of my collarbone. I hissed an intake of breath involuntarily and Jowan hesitated but I glared at him.

"Just do it, damn it," I growled, clenching my fists at my sides. He shivered but nodded once and continued, the knife curving along my skin. It set my nerves on fire and light exploded behind my eyes in pain as he carved some sort of picture, a rune into my chest above my breasts.

My knees were growing weak, mostly from the pain; the bloodloss was minor, at least at that point. When I felt the dagger stop, I slowly opened my eyes.

"I need…I need to cut your hands, now. I need you to draw a circle around yourself on the floor."

I lifted my hands, palm up, and clenched my jaw to hold in the scream I expected to come. The slicing came and it took every ounce of willpower in me not to snap my hands shut and run the hell away.

But I didn't. I held it in, I held in the desire to kick him where it would hurt the most and turn tail. I let him open my hands with his blade as the blood trickled between my breasts, onto my tunic, across my skin.

And then I had to rub my hands across the floor. I felt dizzy as I knelt, spreading my hands in a circle around me. Alistair bent as I completed the circle, tilting my chin up gently with his hand. I knew there were tears and blood all over me, I knew my face was bloodless and pained.

"You are absolutely incredible," he whispered and leaned forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "I don't…I can't…I love you."

His words stung more than the knife did, or the salt of my tears in the carving on my chest. To an outsider, it might have seemed too fast – but we spent nearly every moment of every day together since we had met. We had faced death time and time again, shared in so much pain and loss. It made sense; it made sense more than any other words ever spoken in history.

A sob escaped me before my reply did. We stood together, mirror each other's movements, and his hand curved around my cheek. He remained outside of the circle and, before I could stop myself, I touched his face.

He shivered, and I don't know if it was because my blood was now on his cheek or because of the look on my face.

"Believe me when I tell you this – I love you, Alistair. And that is why I have to do this. Please, Alistair."

And then I saw the tears. Teagan stepped forward and gently pulled him back, even as his face broke and the sadness came fully into the light. I couldn't look away until Jowan spoke again; finally, I gave him my attention.

"Warden-"

"Gwen. Her name is Gwen," Isolde spoke, her voice throaty with emotion as she held her hands together tightly beneath her chin.

Jowan nodded, "Gwen. P-p-please….stand with your hands at your side. With your p-palms out. S-stand as long as you can. I will t-t-try to make it as quick as I can."

"Just know," I spoke quietly, loud enough to be heard by the others but directly to Jowan, "know that I do not blame you for this."

He nodded hesitantly before he slowly lifted his hands and began to move them, speaking words that I did not recognize. Of its own accord, or perhaps pulled by another force, my body snapped open. I felt my feet lifting as the blood poured more profusely from my chest, my arms stuck palm-out at my sides.

I was vaguely aware of Alistair moving at my side and Teagan trying desperately to hold him back.

And also, of an arrow striking Jowan in the leg seconds before I collapsed to the floor and lost all awareness of my surroundings yet again in this strange, painful world.


	15. Madness of Living

"Are you completely and utterly out of your mind?" Aedan's voice hissed at me; he sounded far away, muffled by something.

"You must wait to harass her until I am certain she can still breath," another voice, vaguely familiar without any face I could place it to, sounded a little closer. I couldn't be certain about anything much other than the pain in my body slowly flowing out. My hands were warm – it took me a moment to realize that they were wrapped in bandages. My chest, though, felt cold. The skin ached but I couldn't feel any trickle of blood; that was a plus.

"Will you be able to heal her again if I accidentally murder her?" Aedan laughed a little, sounding harried but relieved. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I could see after the original burst of light that momentarily blinded me. Leliana had retrieved her arrow from Jowan's leg and, as he was standing, I imagined he had been at least bandaged if not healed.

Alistair was kneeling near me, Aedan standing above the gray-haired older woman that was running her hands over me.

"I'm fine," I murmured and Alistair's face broke into a slow smile, his hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Is Connor still asleep?"

"No, he's run off. First Enchanter Irving said we don't need him here to perform the ritual. Irving, Wynne, and Jowan will be performing the ritual. Morrigan can go into the Fade."

"I-I'll go," I murmured, waving off Aedan and Alistair as I forced myself to stand.

"It would be best if another went," the man, I assumed to be Irving, shook his head. "You are hardly at your best, I think."

"And you're not a mage," Wynne responded but the look from Irving made me believe that was not his reasoning. I was curious about the exchange but didn't press.

"Morrigan, would you please do this for us?" I asked, ignoring the fact that I couldn't straighten my shirt and was thus dressed just shy of a prostitute. She looked at me with her bright yellow eyes narrowed, almost as if she wanted to commit me to a staring contest.

"I will. But when I return, we must speak privately."

"Of course," I nodded slowly and moved away from the center of the room, standing between Aedan and Alistair as we watched the mages prepare.

"I can't believe you were going to let him kill you," Aedan spoke quietly, leaning down so that he could all but whisper in my ear.

"The demon was going to destroy the city. I didn't really have a choice, did I?"

Aedan touched my arm gently, "Are you mad?"

"Like crazy?" He nodded a little and I laughed, "Maybe a little."

The long and short of the ritual was that I spent most of my time huddled between the two men that I called close friends, Leliana and Sten watching the happenings closely with the latter pretending not to pay attention. The picture on my chest had long-since stopped bleeding but it was just a scar now; Wynne's healing had been spent primarily ensuring that I still had enough blood in my body to stay alive. My hands were the second most important part, as I needed them to defend myself. My chest, still exposed to the air with the fabric barely covering my shoulders, was not a priority. The scar would be interesting, at the very least.

No one died; except, maybe, the demon. Morrigan returned no worse for wear, although she was looking at me very strangely. Connor found us rather quickly and collapsed into a sobbing heap with his mother. Irving and his Templar escort made their way back to the Circle after thanking Aedan, Sten, Morrigan, and Leliana one last time for something that they would still have to explain to Alistair and myself. Jowan was left at the castle for the time being, despite the Templar's intense disapproval, until we could wake the Arl up. Or not, but I liked to think positively. We were informed that two Templars were on their way to assist with watching over both Connor and Jowan until the Arl was well again. The Templar with Irving had, apparently, nearly killed Jowan. Wynne, although exhausted from her efforts of the day, was tasked with making sure the poor, lost boy was all right.

As tense as the situation had been earlier, everything felt like a week-old helium balloon. Exhausted and confused, I quickly embraced the offer of retiring for the day.

It was a little awkward at first; it was hard to organize everyone and the last thing I wanted to do was care about who was sleeping where. As it ended up, we all ended up sleeping in various guest rooms. There were enough for us to each have our own and, with the demon gone, there were no restrictions on our roaming of the castle.

I had no desire to roam anywhere but through dreamland.

Alistair had other ideas, however. I was startled from something like half-sleep by a soft knock on the door. "Come in," I mumbled and pulled myself to sit up, the blanket pooling around my hips and a new, bloodless tunic only letting the top of my battle scar show.

He entered slowly, looking somewhere between the man I knew he was and the child we had saved earlier. He closed the door behind him and approached with light steps, dressed in a simple tunic and breeches like we had been for the last few days.

"I…I'm glad you are still awake," he spoke quietly, eventually stopping a few feet away from the bed. It was amazing, sleeping in a bed again.

It took me a moment to register why he was there. I hadn't thought about our exchange earlier. I hadn't had much time, what with nearly dying and then recuperating from said experience. When I thought about it then, I grew a little sad; it was possible he had come to apologize for his statement. After all, he hadn't expected to have to face me again.

"I thought…I thought I'd never see you again," he breathed, wringing his hands. His eyes, a brown with an odd hint of blue, were red-rimmed and his jaw was clenched. I sat up a little straighter, grimacing a little. I felt a little light-headed still – Wynne had warned me that it was possible and probable that I would have a day or two of recovery ahead of me.

"I know, Alistair. It's…it's okay. I understand."

"Wait…what?" He asked, confused as he came to stand directly beside my bed. "What are you talking about, Gwen?"

"About…What you said earlier. I understand if you didn't-"

"Don't be ridiculous," he groaned, his hand finding mine on top of the blanket. "I meant what I said. Wait…did…didn't you?"

"Alistair, I couldn't have faced death if it wasn't for you. I did mean it. Now, take off your boots and get in here."

His face changed from concerned to happy to amused before he bent to do as directed. It was improper and we both knew it, but neither of us cared much. I pulled the blankets back and he slid himself into the warm space beside me. Trying not to reopen the wound on my chest, I turned and laid my body down the length of his. He draped his arm behind me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

"I am so glad you are still here, Gwen. I don't know what I would have done with myself." He turned his head and pressed his lips to my forehead. "…Please don't leave me, Gwen."

I lifted my hand and rested it against his chest, the warm hardness of his chest was comforting as I laid my head against the scratchy wool of his tunic. "Not by choice, Alistair. Never by choice."

"I can't…I tried, over the last few days, to convince myself I would be all right. But I can't imagine life without you. I know…I know this seems fast but I know what I feel, Gwen. And I know I feel so many things about you, it makes it hard to think straight."

"I think that's sexual tension," I smiled a little, feeling heat in my cheeks because of the insinuation. I wasn't a particularly delicate flower but, perhaps it was our earlier confessions or the closeness of our bodies. Or maybe it was nearly dying. I wasn't sure, but I felt suddenly emboldened.

Alistair chuckled nervously, using the hand that wasn't on my shoulder to run tousle his own hair. "You do have a certain way with words, don't you?"

"I don't know if I'd say that much. And you don't have to worry, Alistair. I'm not about to ravish you against your will."

"But you would ravish me?" he spoke, his voice a little lower. I let out a noise unlike any I could remember; a giggle, part flirtation and part nerves.

"I would hope that it would be a mutual ravishing," I responded, all but burying my face against his chest. I couldn't bring myself to look at him but didn't need to; the deep nervous chuckle resounded in his chest and reverberated through me.

His fingers traced circles on my upper arm and I found that my own fingers were spreading and contracting against the fabric of his tunic.

"I can assure you," he began, his husky voice making it difficult for me to think straight much like he had been talking about, "…it will most definitely be a mutual ravishing."

I tilted my head back enough so that I could kiss his neck, his unshaven skin scratchy in the best way. He shivered as I did so and his arm held me a little closer.

"Is something wrong?" I murmured, my voice sounding nothing like I was used to.

He swallowed and I watched his Adam's apple move. I carefully, daintily let me hand drift a little lower. The intake of his breath as my hand approached his abdomen, still nowhere near the top of his pants, had me smiling a little.

"Maker, Gwen. You should know that I want to be with you. Desperately." His hand moved and covered mine. It didn't move it anywhere, merely entwined his fingers in mine. "But I want it to be perfect."

He was a virgin.

I felt a tightness in my chest at the thought. I was, in the strictest sense of the word. But I knew plenty and had experienced my fair share of inappropriate activities. But this, what Alistair was suggesting – it was the stuff fairy tales were made of.

I felt tears prick my eyes and knew they would dot his shirt soon. I could hear them in my voice when I spoke and knew, when Alistair pulled me close, that he could too. "I understand, Alistair. But you should know that I believe it will be, whenever, because it will be with you."

I am unsure if it was the tears he could sense or the words that they fell around, but Alistair held me and kissed me with a passion I hadn't experienced. I felt like I was in a romance novel and I loved it. It didn't matter to me that we fell asleep completely clothed, that our hands moved nowhere that could offend Lady Isolde, or that my lips would be sore for days from all of the intense and wonderful kisses.

All that mattered that I was, in fact, still alive. Perhaps the most alive I had ever been.


	16. Decision Making and Promises

We managed to separate in the morning without outside comment, although we didn't try very hard to avoid it. We adjusted our clothing and replaced our boots before we went in search of food. We didn't even try to leave different times; it seemed silly, to me at least. And Alistair appeared to be following my lead.

We found ourselves in the dining hall, directed by an elven servant, and were joined by all of our companions including Wynne, a new addition. It was a very informal affair, some people standing and some sitting. I started standing but Alistair all but pushed me into a chair. If he hadn't, I think Aedan would have when he arrived.

Alistair didn't leave my side, except to find some cheese when the platter's offering had dwindled down.

"It would appear that I missed something," Aedan spoke, his eyes shifting from me to follow Alistair as he left the room for the kitchens.

"You missed nothing," I laughed a little, waving him off. "We just…Things happen, you know."

He looked at me, hard, for a moment before he nodded. "That they do. Much like choosing to become part of a blood ritual to save the life of a boy you've barely met?"

"Quite," I responded, still laughing despite the fact that Aedan didn't seem particularly amused. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time, honestly."

"I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" He shook his head a little, a smile hiding frustration and concern.

"Look who's talking! Saved the entire Circle of Magi," I rolled my eyes at him, picking up something resembling a grape and popping it into my mouth. The four of my companions that had infiltrated the Circle had taken turns telling us about what they had experienced earlier in the morning.

"Yes. But I didn't almost die."

"You win some, you lose some."

"Gwen, really."

"I know. But it made the most sense. With the information and the time I was given, I had to make a decision. I made the one that was going to benefit everyone the most."

"Losing you wouldn't benefit us, Gwen. Don't be stupid."

"It wasn't an ideal situation, but if the Arl were to wake up with his wife dead, it would have been far more difficult to convince him to our cause."

"So you were martyring yourself?"

"I guess. I didn't intend to, not really. Don't worry about it, Aedan. Everything's fine. And I've got a wicked new scar," I laughed a little, tugging my shirt to show off the shining skin. I had examined it as closely as I could from the angle and with my fingers; it cut across the top of my breasts, forming a rather large circle that cut underneath my collarbone. There were jagged lines crossing through it but not connecting, rune shapes on the left and right side. The scar tissue was a light pink, easily distinguishable from my unharmed flesh. The lines were, for the most part, very thin despite the blade that had been used to make them. Wynne had tried again to heal me; my hands didn't hurt when I gripped things, although there were almost imperceptible scars across my palms and I only occasionally felt dizzy. I was, more or less, no worse for wear.

Aedan gave up after a while and Alistair returned to my side. He stood protectively over me, one hand on the back of my chair as the three of us discussed what we had found out about the Urn of Ashes. It was at this point that Aedan reminded us of the information we had come across in Lothering through Ser Donall.

It seemed to Denerim we would go.

We left Redcliffe the next day, after explaining to everyone exactly what we were doing and offering the same out we had every time. The Templars had arrived to keep an eye on the mages we were leaving behind and Isolde sent us on our way with a big, for her, thank you.

Everyone agreed to follow us, either by not saying anything or by voicing an interest. Leliana was, perhaps, the most vocal about how much she wanted to join us. She seemed, in those moments, to be a devout Andrastean despite my misgivings about her dream-vision.

We were going to follow closely to the Imperial Highway, but not take it exactly; we were heading back in the direction of Lothering and none of us wanted to see the destruction that had been wrought. To know that we hadn't saved them was enough, seeing it would only make it worse.

We were all but traversing the width of a country and we would be lucky to make it inside a week, if we pushed ourselves and ran into no trouble at all.

Two weeks, probably. Knowing our luck, at any rate.

Neither Alistair nor I had mentioned his desire to seek out his sister in Denerim as it didn't seem like pertinent information. We would stay at least one night in Denerim, assuming we discovered Brother Genitivi (the man that knew the most about the Urn, according to our information) upon setting foot in the city.

Isolde had gifted us with tents and so we spent our first night on the road sleeping in the safety of canvas drapes. It was odd; I had spent the last few days indoors, but knowing that the stars were just through the tan fabric over my head made me feel somehow incomplete. I found it difficult to sleep that first night, first to fall asleep and second to stay that way. Between all of the thoughts in my head and the dreams (more nightmares) that plagued me, I was glad when Morrigan popped her head into my tent to let me know that it was my turn to take watch.

Although I removed myself from my tent without incident, Morrigan lingered while I settled myself on the dirt near the fire. As she did not move or speak, I eventually tilted my head back and looked up at her. "You're welcome to sit too, you know. Or talk. You did say you had something you wanted to talk to me about, didn't you?"

She watched quietly for a few more minutes before arranging herself on my side of the fire, but not too close. Her face remained aimed at the flames, even as the words began to leave her lips.

"We do not always see eye to eye, you and I," she spoke lowly but without hesitation. "However, you are not quick to dismiss me. I…appreciate how you handle your affairs, even though I do not necessarily agree with your choices."

"I..uhm. Thank you?" I raised an eyebrow, turning to look at her. She was looking back at me with an odd expression – or at least odd for her. It was sincere and without malice, perhaps the most open expression I had ever seen on the witch that sat beside me.

"You are welcome, I suppose. With that being said, I would like to ask you to do something for me."

I had been expecting as much. But, why wouldn't I? Despite our opposing views, she was still with me. She had gone into the Fade at my request. I would help her if I could. Instead of saying anything I just nodded.

"While we were in the Tower, we discovered my mother's grimoire. I have spent some time reading it. While doing so, I discovered…the truth about Flemeth. She is the woman of the tales. Or at least, she was. I am not sure she is entirely human any longer."

While my shock and interest were both easily readable on my face, I did my best to remain quiet and let her continue.

"I believe she has daughters and then, when she has trained them, she…takes over their body. To keep on living. I fear that is why she sent me with you and that she means, upon my return, to do the same to me."

I had seen and heard plenty since arriving in Ferelden that was far from normal for me, but the concept of raising a child to body switch was a little outside of my realm. Granted, women raised children to live vicariously through all of the time. But we were talking literally, not metaphorically here.

"Then don't return?" I offered, the first thing that popped into my head.

"I did not intend to, but I doubt that will be enough. You do remember that she saved you all from the top of the tower at Ostagar, correct? Do you not wonder how?"

"Honestly? I tried not to think about it," I responded, trying to remain humorless. Morrigan didn't seem like she was in the mood for my normal antics. "But I understand what you're saying. What I don't understand is what you would like from me, Morrigan."

Here is when I was struck the most. She looked equal parts irritated, concerned, and almost scared. The way that her features pulled was unlike anything I had seen on her face before; it even reached her eyes, if only a little.

"I need you to kill my mother."

I could identify with Morrigan's desire to kill her mother; I had thought about it, not in any serious way, several times about my own mother throughout my life. But that's not part of the story yet, I guess. Mostly, I was just kind of taken aback that Morrigan thought to ask me. We got along, for the most part, but we didn't share confidences like girlfriends did at home or anything.

I didn't even really think about it; maybe I was wrong to jump to her aid without asking anyone else. Maybe I was wrong to think she was honest or right to begin with. But I said, after only a moment, "I will try."

She looked relieved and thankful, although she merely gave me a nod and left me to my watch. I hadn't expected much else. Maybe Aedan was right, maybe I was being a martyr. I just felt like everyone deserved a chance to live their own life and if Flemeth intended to cut Morrigan's short, I was going to try and stop it. I didn't really believe I could make a difference; I doubted I could honestly kill the woman, even with everyone's help. If she really was this powerful, ancient witch I was pretty certain she had a contingency plan.

I decided then that, if we did go back to confront her, I would try and talk to her before doing anything rash. There was no point in anyone dying if it could be at all avoided. Maybe I was naïve.

I sat alone by the fire, waiting for morning to come and thinking about how drastically my existence had changed in such a short time. And, more than that, how I had grown accustomed to it.

It still struck me sometimes, but I found that I thought about it less. I worried, sometimes, about what had happened where I came from. Had I just disappeared? Had I died? Did anyone notice? Or was I really, truly, just dreaming? The idea that I was in a coma didn't seem right any more. The pain I felt was too real, the emotions were too intense. Nothing made sense, though. If I wasn't dreaming in some way, I had to have literally been transported through time and space. I was convinced this wasn't Earth, it couldn't be.

I didn't really mind. What I had had back home wasn't anything spectacular; sure, I had some friends. My boyfriend wasn't all bad, but it was unlikely that it would have worked. I hadn't spoken to my family in over three years. Sure, I could die any day – but that wasn't any less true with cars and guns than it was trying to put together an army. I was doing something in Ferelden; yes, I missed medicine and toothbrushes and toilet paper, but I had a purpose. I wasn't going through the motions, getting an education to get a job, getting married and living a wholly unspectacular life. I was saving people, or trying. I had found a friend in Aedan, in Leliana, a mother in Wynne. I had found a love in Alistair, though new, that felt more real than anything I had felt before.

Maybe this was where I was meant to be from the beginning and the universe was just righting itself. The reason didn't really matter to me because it was a fact regardless. I didn't know if I was ever going to back and I also didn't know that I really wanted to.

I was the middle watch that night, Sten was meant to take over the last watch. The moon was falling slowly in the sky and it seemed like the appropriate time to get him so, standing from my spot beside the low fire, I moved to interrupt his sleep.

"Sten."

He grunted.

"Sten, it is your turn for watch."

He grunted again but stood slowly, replacing his chest plate and taking up the sword we had found for him. In an odd moment, he held it in his hands, just looking at it.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, watching him.

He made a face, something like a frown although it was difficult to discern from his normal facial expression.

"If you mean to ask if I am happy, happiness is inconsequential."

Before I could think about it, I spoke in response. "I don't agree."

"Happiness is fragile. Nothing can be built upon it that will last. Only duty endures."

"Happiness may be fragile in the truest sense, but a duty to yourself and to those that you care about can bring you happiness. Fulfilling your duty to those that you have made a commitment can cause happiness."

Sten's eyes narrowed; not in anger, I don't think. When he opened his mouth again, I was surprised by what came out. "I was sent here to discover what the Blight is. My group was set upon by darkspawn and everyone was killed, except for myself. I became unconscious . When I awoke, I discovered that my sword was missing. To a Qunari soldier, their weapon is their purpose. It would be as if you lost this 'heart' you speak of. In my rage, I murdered the family that owned the farm I woke up on. That is why I was in the cage."

Aside from the fact that I had never heard him speak so much all at once, I was struck by the words he said. It seemed ridiculous to ask him why he stayed; his sense of duty and the loss of his sword was enough of an explanation to that fact.

"You cannot return without your sword?"

"I would be killed."

"We're traversing across the countryside. There is no reason why we cannot look for it while we do so."

"It will be impossible to find."

"I have one question," I ignored his cynicism and looked into his oddly colored eyes. "Do you regret killing those people?"

His face did not change but his tone did, even if only a little. He responded immediately, "Yes."

"Then we will find your sword, Sten. If I have to tear Ferelden apart to do so."


	17. Road to Denerim

The trip to Denerim was a long one; perhaps the longest distance I had ever travelled on foot, even if you put together all of the mile-running in gym classes or all of the soccer and volleyball games I had played with my college friends. I had started to grow accustomed to the travel, but I was still sore within a few days. It had to have been a week into our travels towards Denerim, after more skirmishes with darkspawn than days travelled, that I finally collapsed beside the fire. Leliana had offered to make dinner, for which I was incredibly thankful. I think everyone was; she was incredible at shooting small woodland animals without ruining too much meat. It was difficult to find them sometimes, especially if we went too far south because the Blight was destroying the land.

She was able to catch three of them, which was a decent amount of meat to make enough stew for the lot of us, and I was able to lie in the dirt beside the fire with my arm draped across my eyes. I heard the shuffling of feet around me, the settling in of my party members.

A foot gently nudged my side and I groaned, slowly letting my arm fall. I turned, only slightly, and saw Alistair with a darling smile on his face.

"Are you all right, my love?" He had settled onto a log that the men had rolled over, elbows resting on his knees.

"Sore," I grunted, offering him a wan smile. "And tired. But I'm more hungry than I am tired. But I'm sorer than anything. I don't know if I can ever move again."

"I could feed you if you were to sit up," he responded with a grin and a raised eyebrow. A battle waged in my mind because I knew I needed to eat, but the idea of moving at all made me cringe.

"I'll sit up if you help me…and promise to let me cuddle with you after dinner. Mostly because you're warm, but a little because you're cute." I had turned my head a little to watch for his reaction and I could catch the blush in the dying sunlight.

Neither of us had our full armor on; I wore light leather besides, but Alistair tended to wear heavy and clanking metal. His breastplate and sword were beside the log, his legs covered from the knees down. We tried to be prepared, but sometimes it was nice to feel a little normal. I could convince myself I was cold so I kept some portion of my armor on, not because I feared for my life in the wee hours of the morning.

"All right, then, if that's how you want to be…" Alistair stood and then crouched behind me, tucking his hands beneath my arms and gently lifting me up. I groaned but pressed my feet into the ground despite their protestations to help maneuver me to be settled my back against the log that Alistair had momentarily vacated.

"You weigh nearly nothing; maybe I should feed you regularly, just so I know something is going in there."

It was my turn to blush; I didn't feel like I weighed so little as he suggested, but it was pleasant to hear. With another smile on his face, he kissed the top of my head before he moved towards the stewpot that had been left for personal discretionary use.

He returned with one somewhat larger portion of soup; we often shared spoons between us, as we had few to go around. It was not unheard of and seemed appropriate for the two of us, as we kissed regularly – although often in private.

"What I wouldn't give for a hot bath," I murmured, turned so that my side aligned with the log, putting my arm along the top if it, beside his leg and hip.

"I'd love a warm bed," Alistair rebutted, lifting to spoon towards my mouth. I felt a little ridiculous, but I was mostly curious if he'd actually do it.

Before I could get my lips on the spoon, I responded with – "I can warm your bed."

Alistair's eyes widened and he sputtered a little, miraculously able to keep the spoon stable. I dodged forward and took the spoon and stew into my mouth before settling back to chew and swallow.

"What did you say to make him blush so?" Aedan asked with a chuckle as he settled on my other side, behind my back, on the log. He tugged gently at my braid and I turned, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Nothing I'm going to tell you, dear."

We quickly transitioned away from flirtation to the task at hand; our plan of attack on Denerim. We had to find Genitivi, gather supplies, and avoid Loghain. Neither Alistair nor I had shared our intentions to go to see his sister, not even with Aedan. I disliked not being honest with him, but it was Alistair's secret, not mine.

The following morning we set off quickly, taking a breakfast on the go of some cheese and what little bread we had left from Redcliffe, although it was very stale, wrapped in nothing but cloth to keep it clean. It still filled our bellies as much as bread could, making life just a little less miserable for a few hours.

It was that day, though, that I think I first totally felt the futility of all we were doing. Life had been so very easy for us up to that point; mostly scrapes and bruises with the occasional more serious wound – since Ostagar, at least. The group of darkspawn seemed not much larger than they normally were and the lot of us were eight including Mather. A terrible force, to be sure. But then they swarmed. It was an ambush after the fact, whether planned or coincidental it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sight of Aedan falling amongst a group of rabid half-men. Everyone else was caught up in fighting the beasts off, but I saw it. I saw him fall, and I saw them claw at his legs. I let out an unearthly screech and threw my bow to the ground, struggling to unsheathe the daggers that Leliana and I had been training with. It was lunacy, barreling into them the way I did. Fortunately, the noise I made alerted my party members to the situation; Mather almost beat me there.

"You will not have him," I repeated as I sliced and dodged, both slightly less than ineffective. I took a sword to the arm, although it wasn't particularly forceful. It was the return of a missed swing and, truth be told, I'm not sure if I would have noticed anyway.

Aside from Mather moving about, I was unaware of anything other than trying to keep the darkspawn from dragging an unconscious and very bloodied Aedan away. Finally, they stopped moving. I stood, panting as heavily as the mabari was, with my daggers at my sides and blood splattered from head to toe. It wasn't until later that I realized that Alistair had joined me as quickly as he could and Leliana had been firing arrows from the moment I started for Aedan's prone body.

Letting my daggers fall to the ground at my sides, I fell to my knees and tried to check for a pulse. His armor rode too high for me to check his neck without possible causing discomfort so I held my ear close over his mouth to catch some sound of breath.

"No, no, no, no," I shook my head, sitting back and staring with wide, tear-filled eyes trying to keep myself from beating on his chest.

Alistair all but lifted me, pulling me to the side. "Wynne knows some healing, let her try."

"But…Aedan," I sobbed, turning my dirty face to Alistair's blood-spattered breastplate. The heavy metal of his gauntlet curved along my shoulder and I shifted so that he could hold me and I could watch with a clenched jaw.

Magic flowed from Wynne like water from a faucet and I could keep myself away. As I moved closer, Aedan's mouth gaped open and he took in a deep, gasping breath. I collapsed beside his head and with my leather-wrapped fingers brushed his matted hair aside.

"..E..elissa?" He groaned, his eyes going in and out of focus as he tried to lift his hand to my face. I caught it gently and held it between both of mine against my chest. "No, Aedan, it's Gwen. I need you to lay still for a moment. You'll have to swallow this healing potion and then Wynne is going to try and help you again. But you have to stay still, okay?"

"Why…why are you crying?" He coughed a little, eyes half-opened.

"Nothing, no reason. Just lay still, okay?"

He nodded imperceptibly before I tore the stopper of a vial of particularly potent batch of healing potion and wriggled myself beneath his head to prop it up, tipping his chin down lightly much like he had for me all those weeks ago. I let the potion flow into his mouth slowly before I handed the vial away, smoothing his hair and telling him how I'd never forgive him if he didn't get up.


	18. Silent Treatment or Blood Means Little

It was jarring, to say the least, once we were able to get Aedan up again. The worst of it all was the way that the darkspawn seemed to want to take him away; I wasn't yet ready to talk to him about that. I knew I needed to tell both he and Alistair, as it seemed relevant to the whole Grey Warden thing, but I couldn't shake the image of Aedan lying all but dead on the ground. Or the way he said his sister's name as if he expected it to be her instead of me.

But we were all heading towards Denerim, a little quieter after the ordeals of the day. We would make camp once more before we would reach the city's gates. We could have walked all through the night and made it that same day, but I nixed that option after what had happened to Aedan. Both Aedan and Wynne said that he would be fine, but I refused to push him.

"He'll be better with a night's rest, and that's that. The eight or so hours we're taking off the road won't do us any harm."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," Aedan groaned, trying to stand up for himself.

I shot him a look and said, without thinking, "You and Alistair have been expecting me to lead, to make decisions, and to push us forward or hold us back when it is convenient for the two of you. Well, I'm doing it now. We're stopping, and that is the end of that. There's no sense in discussing it, because there's nothing to discuss."

Everyone was silent for the majority of the rest of evening, at least until after dinner. I offered to take the first watch and intended to take all of them. I settled in front of the dying fire, staring into the flames. I don't know if I wasn't thinking about anything, or if I was overwhelmed with thoughts. I zoned out, though, that much I know for certain.

My mind wandered from Thedas to Earth, at the very least where I was from. Far be it from me to decide where or when the hell I was. What I was or wasn't missing. Whether or not I was missed. Whether or not it really mattered to me.

I was homesick, but not in any real way. Maybe it wasn't even homesick, I was just…sick. I didn't want to be in charge, I didn't want to make decisions, I didn't want to see my friends die. I didn't want to be responsible for a country's wellbeing. Or even one person's. I could barely take care of myself. I was gross with sweat and blood, but we wouldn't be near a river until we were almost upon the city. We decided it was best to clean up before entering, but not to push for the riverside spot until the afternoon.

Maybe everyone else was better; it seemed like they were talking during dinner and around the fire, they chatted until they all dispersed into their own tents. I'm not sure how I managed to convince everyone to leave me alone as I sat amongst them but alone all over again.

It wasn't that I felt like I couldn't trust them or didn't need them; it wasn't that I didn't want to be around them. It didn't have anything to do with any of them , not really. It was everything else.

And so I sat on the log, staring without seeing, into the wee hours of the morning.

The sun burned my dry, tired eyes as it slowly climbed above the horizon. It hadn't ever really registered before, but I realized how lucky I was that I had been born with near-perfect vision. My life in Ferelden would have been much more difficult if I had worn only contacts.

An odd thought to have, especially as I hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours and wouldn't be sleeping for at least another twelve. Mather was the first to rise, padding his way over to me and laying his head across my thighs. I ran my hand from just above his eyes to his shoulders and then lifted it to start the process over again.

"How are you, pup?" I murmured to him, leaning down and wrapping my arms gently around his neck to hug him. He whined a little and nuzzled my cheek with his head, letting out the quietest of barks and blowing hot dog breath in my face.

"That's what my father used to call me," Aedan spoke quietly, his armor clanking softly as he came to take up the spot beside me. He sat close, close enough for the cool metal of his armor to press against the less resilient leather of mine.

"Much more pleasant than what my father called me," I responded with a laugh, shaking my head as I pulled back from Mather. The face that Aedan made left me feeling hollow for my comment; I knew Aedan's father was dead, and I knew it hurt like hell. "I'm sorry, friend."

"No need to apologize. You've exhausted yourself. You took the watch all night, didn't you?" He looked renewed from sleep but worn with concern.

"Wasn't tired," I brushed him off, getting up slowly as to not disturb Mather too much.

"Wait," he spoke, hand reaching out to grab mine. Neither of us were wearing our gloves yet so his warm hand brushed my cold one. "I wanted to tell you thank you, for yesterday."

"I didn't do anything."

"If you had not done anything, I wouldn't be here. And you wouldn't have those gashes in your armor. Or those new scars. You risked your life for mine."

"I saw you first is all," I shook my head, removing my hand from his grip and walking away. He didn't try to stop me again and he didn't try to strike up conversation with me even as we made it into Denerim after we stopped to bathe. In fact, no one really tried to speak to me at all. Sten and I were the perfect, silent walking partners until we found ourselves a pub inside the city walls of Denerim.

I remained silent even as the others talked over our pints. We were keeping mostly to ourselves in a corner table, speaking openly but in hushed tones when it came to our purpose and our plans.

"We need to split into groups to accomplish everything in a timely manner. Alistair, you and Gwen know the most about Genitivi from his research. Do you need anyone to join you?"

My head was tilted up, but I wasn't looking at anyone. I could see Alistair's eyes shift to me briefly before he fiddled nervously with his mug. He shook his head, "No, I think we will be all right."

"Right then. Leliana, you and Wynne should buy what supplies we need. Would you like someone to go with you?"

"Mather would be pleasant company," Leliana smiled and the dog let out a quiet bark of approval.

"Morrigan, you and Sten will come with me to do odd jobs around the city to gather money."

The dark-haired witch let out a hiss of disapproval and Sten grunted.

"This is not-"

"As I have said every time since you joined us, if you do not wish to participate, then do not." I growled, narrowing my eyes as I looked up at the giant man. "But your constant negativity is wearing and I have no patience for your nay-saying, not today. Stay here or leave, assist or hold your tongue. This goes for everyone." I lifted the mug to my lips and drained it before I set it down heavily and pushed back from the table.

I dropped a few of the copper coins I carried with me onto the table before I turned and headed towards the door. Alistair joined me shortly thereafter, outside of the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

He was frowning quite deeply as he caught up with me, putting a hand gently on my arm. "What is going on, Gwen?"

I shook my head but didn't shake him off.

"Gwen, I wish you would talk to me," he fell in-step beside me as I moved away from the tavern.

"I don't have anything to say, Alistair. I just…I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Aedan said you took the watch all night."

"And?"

Alistair let out a heavy sigh and ran his ungloved hand back through his hair, "Is it the dreams?"

I stopped walking and turned to look at him. I lifted my hand and I curved it along his cheek. "Alistair. I am fine. Just a little high strung. I will apologize to everyone later. But I don't want to worry about me right now. We should focus on finding your sister. Goldana, right?"

Alistair looked at me for a long moment before he lifted his own hand to touch mine before he took it, lifted it to his lips to kiss it, and then finally left them joined between us as he started us in one direction.

It was odd; we didn't hold hands very often and especially not out in the open. I think he knew, somehow, that I needed someone to keep me on the ground. He couldn't make me happy, but he could keep me from flying off the handle again.

"We're to meet everyone at the Pearl tonight. The rooms are cheaper there, and no one is likely to ask questions."

"After we find Genitivi?"

"Assuming we do."

"We will," I squeezed his hand gently as he stopped us in front of a rather run-down looking shack of a building. Not that anything on that side of town was particularly well-kept. I imagined the people that lived there had better things to spend their money on, like food. "But first..."

"I'm not… I don't know, Gwen. What if she doesn't remember me?"

"How could anyone forget this face?" I smiled up at him and gently touched his cheek. I was hopeful for him but concerned, too. The look in his eyes made me worry that this could only end poorly, but I was going to try to make it better for him.

His grin was appreciative and he touched my hand before he held it at his side, lifting his unused hand to knock on the shoddy wood of the door.

It took half a second before the door opened. A woman, a few years over thirty that looked like she'd gained an errant decade, stood with a fake smile hiding an angry grimace. Her hair was the red of Alistair's highlights, but that was where the similarities stopped for me. Her eyes were brown, a muddier color than Alistair's ever achieved. Her cheekbones were high, but not quite the same kind of structure as Alistair's. She reminded me of my own half-sister, where there was something that made us family but just the one thing – for us, it was our mouths. We had the same lips, our mother's lips. Everything else, there was a niggling feeling that we looked alike, but nothing to put a solid name to.

"Do you have linens to wash? I charge three bits on a bundle, you won't find better. You can't trust what that Natalia women tells ya, she's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

"N-no," Alistair started, shaking his head a little. "We don't need to have any wash done. But…but my name, it's Alistair." He sighed a little, disheartened by the now-impatient look on the woman's face. "This…this may sound a little strange, but I..I'm…Are you Goldanna? Because…if you are, I think… I'm your brother."

Goldanna went from looking impatient to looking incredulous, shaking her head. "My what? How do you know my name? What are you folk up to?"

"He's telling you the truth," I backed him up, setting a hand on his shoulder. I didn't believe that they shared a mother, but the idea that the King had slept with multiple women was hardly a difficult idea to swallow. This was a concept I would address with Alistair later, because he didn't need any more to think about just then.

"Our mother was a serving girl at the castle-"

"They told me you was dead."

"Me? Who told you that?"

"Thems at the castle. They told me that you and my mother was dead. I tried to tell 'em that you was the King's baby, but they gave me a gold coin to shut me mouth an' told me to by on my way."

"I'm sorry… I had no idea. But the baby didn't die, the baby…it's me. I'm your brother."

"For all the good it does me! You killed me mother, you did. And that gold coin didn't last long, an' I had to scrape along. When I went back to the castle, they ran me off. And you came back here, looking for what?"

"What they did isn't his fault."

"And just who are you? Some tart, followin' him around for his riches?"

"Excu-" I started but Alistair shook his head.

"You can't speak to her that way. She is my friend and she is a Grey Warden."

"And what's it to me? So you're a prince and a Grey Warden too? Who am I to think poorly of someone so high an' mighty? I don't know you, boy – your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me, and left me with nothing. I have five mouths to feed and unless you can help with that, I've got less than no use for you."

I saw the look on Alistair's face; he looked crushed and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I stepped forward, despite his quiet protestations.

"You are an incredibly awful person. I understand that you have suffered, but you know nothing of what he went through. He came here to find you, to connect with you, hoping that family could fill a hole that you obviously feel too.-"

"Just who are you-"

"I'm not finished, Goldanna," I growled, clenching my jaw. She looked angry but a little afraid. "You do not deserve him, not even a little. I am sorry for what happened to you and to your mother, but that is no reason to treat him this way." I reached my hand to my belt; beside my dagger was a pouch of money and Goldanna gasped as I reached, probably thinking I was going for my knife. I pulled the pouch off and weighed it a little – it wasn't all we had, but it was quite a lot. Probably thirteen gold. She didn't deserve it, but her children didn't deserve to starve either. I threw the pouch at her feet. "Feed your children, woman, and stop blaming everyone else for the situation you find yourself in."

I turned around and looked up at Alistair before I walked through the door. I heard him say, "It appears I truly do not have a sister," before his footsteps fell in with mine and the door slammed shut behind us. Alistair's hand found mine and he gently pulled me close to him after we moved away from the front of the woman's shack.

He held me close, despite our public state and the amount of armor we wore. "Thank you, Gwen. For what you said, for giving her money even though she didn't…she didn't deserve it."

He kissed my forehead before I pulled back from him and held his hands between us. "People can be awful, Alistair. In fact, most are. The important thing to remember is that you don't have to be. You have to know how to deal with them – and sometimes I forget that, like with Lady Isolde – but you have to always be yourself, and be good."

"You're not awful," he responded quietly. "You were going to let yourself be killed to save Connor."

"You're right. But I can be awful too. It's just making sure that goodness overrides. Sometimes even the bad things we do are good, if that makes any sense. Like…Sten. We let a known murderer out of his cage, which is bad. But he would have been left to whatever the darkspawn would have done to him if we had left him there, which is just as bad. So we saved him. And we will probably do some awful things between now and the end of all of this, but the overall good is saving Ferelden."

Alistair nodded a little and I saw his jaw set. I hoped I had done more good than harm, but I wasn't entirely sure.

"And..uh…let's not tell anyone about the money, shall we? I think that would be grounds for mutiny again," I smiled at him a little, squeezing one of his hands as I let the other one down. "We've got our way and find Genitivi's place before it gets dark."

Alistair nodded a little before we broke our hands away and he pulled out a map we had hand-drawn from our information. Through our studies and word-of-mouth, we were able to find the location of his home, actually just across from the pub we had started in.

"You know," I started as we walked back in the direction we had come, glancing around the town at the different people that could be seen there, "we do this thing where I'm from, it's called 'going on dates'. I think it's, like…courting here, or something."

"Are you saying I should write you poems that tell you how beautiful you are and compare you to…the moon, or something?"

"Only if you're comparing me to a moon made of cheese, because I feel like if there's one thing you love more than anything, it's cheese."

"You're a close second," he grinned as he looked at me and, for a moment, it was almost as if the Goldanna nonsense had never happened. We weren't hunting down a man, searching for fabled ashes – we were strolling through a marketplace, just two people that happened to be armed to the teeth and dressed for war.

"I think I'm okay with that."

"Do you really want to…go on a date? That's what you said, right?"

"I don't need to. Sometimes I just think it might be nice to be able to eat dinner together, you know, by ourselves? Alone. Romantic. But…this life we're leading doesn't really lend itself to such things."

Alistair looked pensive for a moment before he smiled his charmingly boyish smile and we stopped in front of the door that would lead us to Brother Genitivi.

This time, I knocked. After a moment, there was a scrambling behind the door and then a man, older than Alistair but not old enough to be his father, with dark hair and squinty dark eyes opened it just enough for us to see him.

"What do you want?"

"Is this Brother Genitivi's home?"

"Yes. He isn't here," and then the man began to slowly close the door.

I placed my booted foot in the doorway and then pressed a hand to the wood. "Do you know where he is? This is very important."

The man made a face at Alistair and I before he let out a heavy sigh and opened the door a little more. "No, I don't. I haven't seen him in weeks. I'm his assistant, Weylon. What is it you need?"

"We need his help to find the Urn of Ashes. It's important that he tells us where it is."

"I can't tell you anything that I don't know. It's been days since I've last seen him. He told me he was going to somewhere near Lake Calenhad, but that's all I know."

I paused before I responded. First, he had said it had been weeks and then he said days. Something smelled fishy – and I doubted it was dinner.

"Have you seen any knights looking for him?"

"Yes, some knights from Redcliffe, I think, came looking for him. They've disappeared since."

"How do you know they've disappeared?"

"Well, they haven't come back or written about Brother Genitivi," he added quickly. A very small sheen of sweat began beading above his eyebrows.

"Where did you send the knights?"

"Lake Calenhad, I told you I read that in his notes."

"Actually, you said that he told you that before he left. And when did you say he left again?"

"About a week ago."

"So was it days, or weeks then?"

The man's face contorted first in frustration and then something like anger. Alistair was looking back and forth between the two of us before I took a small step forward.

"You are not telling us something and I have no more patience for games. This is a life or death situation for someone very important to my friend and you will tell me what is going on."

"We- I mean I…think it's best if – oh, sod it. I tried to deter you, but you just wouldn't give up. "

He began to conjure a ball of what looked like lightning in his hand and I did the only thing that I could think of – I smacked him. Hand-to-face contact. He looked half-dazed for a brief second but he quickly regained himself and threw a lightning bolt, fast this time, right at my chest. I flew back, skidded on my butt until I fell backwards and hit my head on the ground, hard. It was no matter, though – Alistair had his shield and sword at the ready by the time Weylon could focus on him, giving us a small edge. I was faster now, better with daggers than I had been. My right hand still couldn't keep up as much, but my left hand was quick and strong. Alistair distracted him, taking the brunt of his spells, as I moved myself around the back of him. He noticed me before I could drive the dagger home with my left hand, but my right one made a swipe at his barely-covered arm.

"You have to die, you know," he growled as he thrust another knife-like bolt of lightning at my chest and I groaned as I was slammed back against the wall.

I hated when we killed people but sometimes, it was kill or be killed. And he had just told us his intentions, so I made no bones when Alistair did what I could not and took the man's head off at the neck.

I shivered, looking at the spilled blood that had splattered across the wall, the ceiling, the floor, and myself. Making a face, I shook my head and stepped gingerly around the decapitated one before leaning into Alistair.

"Effective, but messy," I smiled wanly, turning away. I could handle, most of the time, dead darkspawn. It had taken me a while not to feel the bile rise in my throat after that first kill – but this was a person, even if he was an awful one.

"Let's look around, I guess – I mean, we're already here. He's dead so I can't imagine we'll be doing much more damage."

As we walked away from the body and began to search for notes, I swiped at the blood on the front of my now-charred armor, flicking it to the floor and leaving even more of a mess. It wasn't an intentional motion, so much as habit; I didn't want it on me to avoid suspicion when we walked outside but other than that, I felt no great desire to remove it. I had grown too used to death.


	19. Courting vs. Dating vs. Whatever-This-Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is floof. I love floof.

We found a crumpled body in the bedroom, along with several assorted books of parchment, filled with field notes and speculations. All signs pointed to a place called Haven with some vague idea of where it might be located. We had plenty to do to get ourselves there and the day was slowly getting away from us, as we hadn't arrived in Denerim until just before noon. I knew, consciously, that rushing was probably unnecessary – if something was going to work, it would work just as well tomorrow as it would right then – but I felt this pull in my feet and a heaviness in my heart. It was probably in part my exhaustion, but there was something beneath the surface that was nagging at me and I couldn't figure out what it was.

We left Brother Genitivi's house, leaving two dead bodies in our wake, and crossed the dusty road to reach the tavern again. It was unlikely that our companions would yet be at the Pearl, so we took up in a shady corner booth, sitting as close as if we were attached. It was probably inappropriate, but neither of us recognized any faces and we thought we could take some time to ourselves. Our armor made it a little difficult, but we managed as best we could as we shared a bowl of soup and two ales.

"I suppose we'll have to go to this Haven place," I murmured, wishing we were wearing plainclothes. I missed the curves of him, hard but still softer than his platemail. "I wish we could just…pause, you know? Pretend, for a day, that this whole thing wasn't happening. There is a lot of travelling, to be sure, but we're always pressing forward. There is always something important for us to continue on and accomplish. And I just want…to be."

"Isn't that what we're doing?" Alistair smiled down at me, lifting a hand from which he had removed his gauntlet and gently smoothing my hair.

"You're right. I shouldn't take what we have for granted."

"So tell me more about this 'dating' thing you mentioned earlier. Did you go on many of them?"

I shook my head, feeling the heat of blush in my cheeks. "Not really. I mean, I think it's a little different here. From what I can tell, you only court people you intend on being serious with – you know, marriage and stuff. Where I'm from, you can do that, but a lot of people….don't take it as seriously? It's kind of hard to explain. You go on dates with people to get to know them, so you can decide if you want to get serious – it's like…like a pre-courting thing, if that makes any sense."

Alistair's face held a confused, if not slightly hurt, look. His words were hesitant as he separated a little from me to look down into my eyes. "Are you…not…are we not…is this pre-courting?"

I grinned at him and gently touched his cheek. "I can't imagine anything much more serious than this, Alistair. Don't you worry one little bit. Besides, who's going to steal me away? Sten?"

He chuckled a little but responded with, "What about Teagan?"

"He's a flirt," I rolled my eyes, "What about you? You're surrounded by women."

"Who?" he asked innocently, "I only see you."

"And that, my dear prince, is the idea behind 'dating'," I laughed and laid my head between the cold metal of his armor-covered shoulder and the warmth of his exposed neck.


	20. The Oyster and The Pearl

Alistair and I only stayed at the tavern through the end of our bowl and mugs, curled together as close as we could be in the corner. We decided it was best to make our way to the Pearl, as neither of us had any concept of what the streets were like after dark. Fortunately, we ran into little resistance as we stumbled upon the Pearl.

It smelled not unlike the place in Lothering, although in addition to unwashed bodies and stale ale, there was the distinct odor sex. The half-naked men and women that sat here and there, more than one of which leered at Alistair, led me to believe –

"Is this a…a brothel?" I hissed quietly, eyes wide. I had been trying to remember the appropriate term for it because 'whorehouse' seemed like it might be more than slightly offensive.

Alistair looked almost as uncomfortable as I felt, although he was trying to hide it better than I was despite the blush in his cheeks. "Yes."

"Why didn't anyone see fit to mention that little fact to me?"

"Because-… I guess I forgot you didn't know."

"Don't look now, I think someone has their eye on you," I nudged him gently in the side, nodding my head towards a dark-haired woman, a dwarf to the best of my limited knowledge. She was cute, if not a little harried with a lot of make-up.

When she approached, though, she stopped short of Alistair – rather, she stopped in front of me and battered her big, brown eyes into my face.

"What's ye pleasure, honey?"

I blinked several times, unable to speak. Alistair cleared his throat from beside me and echoed her. "Yes, what is your pleasure?"

"…I…uh…um," I stammered, looking from the woman in front of me to the man at my side. "He is, but thank you," I finally managed to respond, offering the now-disinterested woman an apologetic smile.

"Pity," she murmured as she turned, tossing "D'love to wrap them legs around me neck…." over her shoulder as she moved on.

It wasn't like I'd never been hit on before, and not even that I had never heard a woman talk like that; for some reason, though, I was completely caught off guard and knew my face was scarlet. Another awful tendency of my ghostly pallor was how easily I blushed.

"That was…" I began, turning wide eyes to Alistair, who was grinning like a fool.

He cleared his throat and tried to quell the smile on his face before he nodded, "…interesting."

"That isn't exactly the word I was going for, but from the look on your face I'm assuming it's the best I'm going to get from you."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean I would think you'd rather me wrap these legs around your neck."

The look on his face was a hilarious mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and interest. I made no bones about laughing as he stammered a, "w-well, you know, I didn't-"

"Don't be so adorable, or else I may have to rent one of the rooms not meant for sleeping," I winked at him – it was, possibly, the first time I had ever successfully winked at anyone. It's an awkward movement, for those of you who haven't tried it. And I wasn't entirely sure it looked the way it might in a movie, but the message magically seemed to make itself obvious as Alistair blushed probably more red than I had.

"Oh, don't look so afraid," I laughed again, smiling at him as I moved him over to a table in the corner. "A bed is a bed, but I know you want to wait – and we will. We can wait until we're old and gray, although I have the distinct suspicion that you would prefer to see me naked before that happens. I mean, I may not be Miss America but all of this travelling has definitely…uhmm...improved things beneath the armor."

"Who…what…" he stared as he sat across from me, obviously a little out of sorts. I had only slightly intentionally led him to think about my body but, the first thing that came out of his mouth in any real structure was, "Who is Miss America?"

"It's this contest where I'm from for the most beautiful, talented woman in all of the country."

"You may not be Miss America, but you are certainly Miss Ferelden."

It was my turn to be embarrassed; I hadn't intentionally been searching for such a compliment, but I would have been lying if I said I didn't appreciate it. I reached across the table and touched his hand, "I look forward to not being in this armor. If there is a place where we can get away with being close and not being looked down upon, it would be here."

"What about the others?"

"What about them? If they haven't figured it out, the shock will do them good," I laughed again a little, watching him closely to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable.

"It won't make you uncomfortable, you know, to be close around them?"

"I think, because of where I'm from, it doesn't even cross my mind as something that we shouldn't do. It's hard for me not to just kiss you whenever I want to, because I would back home."

Home. It was an odd thing to say. I couldn't remember the last time I had thought of my time and place as 'home'. It felt wrong, almost, but the word had just slipped.

"Do you…do you want to go back?" he asked, out of nowhere. Or not really out of nowhere, considering what I had just said. But it felt like it, because I had been trying to avoid thinking about it once I had completely given up on the idea of it all being a dream.

"No, not really," I blurted, not really thinking about it. "I mean, I think about what it's like there sometimes – if I just disappeared, or if I never existed, or…you know, what happened to who I was. But I don't think that I really want to go back. There wasn't much there for me; I do miss some modern conveniences, like razors."

"Like for my face?"

"Only for my legs."

"You shaved your legs?"

"It was a modern convention, meant to greater separate men from women to make women more feminine."

"You know, we have razors here…" he chuckled and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I don't think the darkspawn are going to care if my legs are hairy or not. And you never would have thought about it if I hadn't said anything. Besides, I imagine I'll slice myself up if I try to use one of your straight razors."

"I could do it for you?"

I looked at him with as much confusion as I could muster. The idea of someone else shaving my legs, especially a guy that was supposed to find me sexy at some point in the hopefully-near future. But this whole shaved-legs thing seemed to entertain him, and I knew my legs would be demolished if I tried to do it by myself. And, for some reason, I doubted Alistair would be okay with Aedan doing it.

"We'll see. I imagine it will require some time as well as privacy, neither of which do we have very much of. And lots and lots of lather."

"We have tonight?"

"What good are shaved legs if you aren't going to wrap them around your neck?" I managed to hold in my laughter in favor of a more (of an attempt at a) seductive sort of reaction.

"The night is young," he coughed, both of our faces red with blush again.


	21. Kisses and Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is Isabela being awesome.

We both took up an ale as we sat in the corner, waiting for the others to join us with sexual tension heavy between the two of us – even as we spoke of many other things. We made jokes and spoke about nothing that mattered; it was very nice. Like a date, almost.

We were alone in a milling crowd of people for some time before a small scuffle broke out beside us; a woman with skin like caramel and hair like coffee, curves that defined "hourglass" and wicked-looking daggers was easily taking on three men who had said something we hadn't heard. I stood to assist but by the time I had drawn my weapons, the men were retreating from the woman.

When they had gone, with her parting words cutting more than her daggers had, the woman turned on me.

"What is such a pretty thing like you doing in armor?" she asked, eyes skimming me. "It doesn't do a thing for your figure."

This woman was wearing nothing so much as a chest plate; in fact, she was wearing almost as little as some of the workers of the Pearl with her voluminous bust all but bursting from her top. While the tunic or blouse or whatever it was offered much of her chest, it offered little of her arms. Her legs were covered in supple-looking leather, boots up to her knees, and a blue belt cinched around her waist, matching the bandana that kept her hair out of her eyes. I do not mean to imply that every woman in Ferelden was incredibly beautiful, but it seemed my destiny to run into the ones that were. She was exotic, for sure, and exuded sex without even trying. It was a little disorienting, even if I had no interest in what she had to offer.

"Thank you, but I doubt I would have lasted this long with anything less."

"You must learn better battle strategies, then."

"I did notice that you didn't take a single hit; how is that?"

"I could teach you, perhaps."

"I don't have much money to pay you with."

"There is something else you could pay me with, love," she responded, narrowing her smoldering eyes and her meaning was incredibly obvious. I glanced to Alistair who looked like he would only slightly mind. I warred for a minute with myself but decided I did not want our first time to be with someone else, whatever that said about me.

"No, then? Well. Let's say…if you beat me at Wicked Grace, then maybe we'll talk about it. I'd like to get to know you better before we commit to it."

"And if I lose?"

"Oh, don't worry; you will. If you lose – I get a kiss." She winked at me, pulling it off much better than I had earlier. I glanced to Alistair, who again seemed barely to mind, and so I shrugged. I could do that. It wouldn't be the worst option.

As I settled into the chair across from her, she smiled wickedly and added, "…I never said where."

I blushed profusely but cleared my throat, deciding that she was likely trying to distract me. I would have none of it.

Isabela, as she thus introduced herself, explained some very shady rules to a game that sounded like a cross between Tarot Cards, Go Fish, and Poker. She offered me a practice round, which I lost without question. Unbeknownst to her it was because I was paying more attention to what she was doing than to what I was.

By the time our proper hand started, Leliana and Wynne had showed up. They joined Alistair at our side, although I could see Leliana's necked craning subtly as she eyed the game.

I had noticed in our first hand that, when I allowed Isabela to shuffle the cards, the Angel of Death magically appeared after our top ten cards. Also, she went first even when she shuffled the cards – something I wasn't used to. It was a convenient win. I also noticed an odd flick of her hand, but couldn't quite decide what it was for.

"How many hands shall we play?" Isabela asked, picking the cards up again.

"Best of out five?"

"Oh. A long one – all right, I'll bite," she smiled at me in a way that reminded me of the Cheshire Cat and finished, "…only if you ask for it."

"Very well, then," I smiled weakly, trying to appear flirtatious without being overt. I had to play her game, even while we played cards.

"Would you like to shuffle, or shall I?"

"I'll give it a go this turn. So, do I draw first then, as you did?"

Isabela's eyes narrowed just a little, it was almost imperceptible, and that Cheshire Cat smile curved around her words. "Aren't you quick, sweet thing. Well, yes, shuffle or cut, deal, and then draw your first card."

So I did. I shuffled the shit out of that deck. I cut it in half and made the bridge. I cut it into fourths and mixed those into two piles, then made the bridge again. And just one last time, before I cut it and restacked it. And then I dealt three, two, two, three. Like Euchre. And then, finally, I draw a card.

Isabela purred, "Oh, the cards are good to me today…."

I had two knights, two songs, and the serpent-entwined dagger in my hand. I drew a knight. I discarded a song in favor of the knight card and made a disgruntled face the entire time.

Isabela didn't look the least bit concerned as she drew her own card. Again, there was a flick of her hand – just a little twitch that I thought I had imagined the first time.

"Ahh, the Angel of Death. It's time to show our hands."

I called bullshit – mentally, that is. I had four more rounds to prove I could best her. I imagined that was the point. She said she wanted to get to know me better before she taught me and I thought, perhaps, she was testing my mettle.

I showed my hand. Three nights, the dagger, and a song. She had four serpents and my lost knight. It beat my hand.

Two could play at this game.

"I'll shuffle again, but you can draw first if you like."

"All right, pet, let's play round two."

So I shuffled. I kept the Angel of Death under my thumb and shuffled so that I knew it was on the top – one thing you learn when you're locked in a room every day after school is how to play with cards. The book called them 'magic card tricks' but the sleight of hand worked for cheating, too. So I slid the card on the bottom of the deck. I would have to be incredibly careful if I was going to try and put the card in my grasp so, instead, I would catch her cheating.

So I dealt from the top of the deck, knowing that the Angel of Death was placed at the end. The deck, it seemed, had twenty cards – five suits with four cards each, I assumed. I hadn't seen most of the cards because we hadn't been able to draw very many. There were angels, daggers, knights, and songs. To get three angels in your starting hand would be the best – unless, of course, you drew the Angel of Death. And told your partner. I believed that either Isabela was being dealt the Angel of Death or she had one literally up her sleeve. I knew this round that it could not be the former. We had yet to really be able to "play" any cards, as Isabela had been ending the rounds practically before they started.

But I'd catch her.

The hands were dealt and I had two daggers, two knights, and one song. The Angel of Death remained safely on the bottom of the deck.

Or so I thought.

Another quick flick of her hand as she drew and "Angel of Death. The game is over, time to show our hands."

Still, my hand was just a little worse than hers. All right. Time to play dirty.

"I'll shuffle again, and draw first." I spoke, not asking but telling. Sure enough, when I flipped the deck over, the Angel of Death was right where I had intended it to be.

She was cheating. It was my turn.

I shuffled the deck, making sure the keep the Angel of Death card beneath my thumb again. This time, it four cards down. It took a little more skill than slipping it on the bottom but luck was on my side as Leliana slipped over to me.

"Gwen…she's cheating," she murmured, Isabela distracted by looking at Aedan, Sten, and Morrigan as they entered and moved in our direction. I think it was Sten that was the most distracting, which was to my benefit.

"I know," I smiled. "Two can play at that game, though."

"Be careful she doesn't catch you."

"I have every intention of not being caught."

"Good luck," Leliana responded with a smile of her own, just as Isabela asked how long it was going to take me to shuffle the deck.

Fortunately, I had been able to slip the card exactly where I wanted it to go.

I dealt the deck three, two, two, three and when I picked up my cards I noted that the Angel of Death was among them. Perfect. As were the three other angels, and a dagger.

She could not beat this hand.

I drew a card and, as I slipped it among my other cards, paused a moment. Did I win, or did I call her out?

"Angel of Death. Maybe I got lucky this time," I responded, trying to hide my smile. A good Poker face was what I needed to practice.

Isabela's eyes widened a little and then narrowed in suspicion as I laid my hand on the table before her. I was curious what an actual game would look like, but I didn't have the opportunity to find out. I had to play by her rules which, I guessed, were the rules all along. Cheat to win.

"All four angels and a dagger."

"Well. It appears you won this round." She seemed more amused than angry, for which I was glad.

"I will shuffle, you pull first," Isabela spoke as she took all the cards up.

My hand was good again, three of a kind with two pair aside. I pulled first and discarded it, in favor of keeping what I already had.

Isabela drew and, lo and behold, she pulled the Angel of Death.

I won again, but only by the skin of my teeth.

"Final hand, then? Looks like whoever wins gets the kitty."

In this case, the kitty was either my kiss or her knowledge.

"You can shuffle again," I spoke, ready to slap the cards from her hand when she drew. If I knocked her hand, it would reveal an Angel of Death up her sleeve, no doubt. Well. I hoped so, anyway.

She shuffled, dealt, and drew first. Again, of course, she had the Angel of Death. But she couldn't – because I did.

"So the cards in your sleeve, are they just the Angel of Death? Or have you got a few other there, to ensure you win?"

A smile curved her lips and curiosity raised a curved black eyebrow. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, obviously you didn't pull the Angel of Death."

"What do you mean? It's right here."

"It's also right here," I said, revealing my hand. "As I have no sleeves and did not shuffle the deck, there is no other explanation, is there? I was watching you, too; that flick of your wrist."

She stared at me for a long moment before she tilted her head back and let out a lilting, pirate-y laugh. I don't know how a laugh was pirate-y, but hers was.

"Well, you caught me. Clever girl you are. Why didn't you reach for my hand?"

"I'm pretty quick, but I imagine not quick enough to catch you."

"I hope you're wrong, because otherwise you'll end up with a fair share of bruises in a few moments."

We stood then, after collecting the cards, and cleared my companions to the sides of the little alcove we had taken over. We spend quite some time with my getting smacked here and there by the flat side of a blade but, eventually, I was beginning to fall into step. Isabela passed me after over an hour, both of us sweating although admittedly I was worse for wear. And overly exhausted at this point, running on no sleep and little food.

However, I was still in good spirits despite it all and, as she came in to shake my hand, I pulled her closer to press a kiss to her shining, rosy cheek. I moved my move closer to her ear after and whispered, "I stacked the deck."

She looked at me for a beat before laughing again, that high seas laugh, and slapped me gently on the back in a friendly manner.

"Good on you; I think you'll live yet."


	22. A Brief Respite

We passed the beginning of the evening taking care of some business for pay that Aedan had dug up at the Pearl and then just…being. It was lovely, even if Sten disapproved (which he did). We drank probably more than we should have, we were loud, we let the prostitutes bounce around our table. It was almost like a party, even if we did have the fate of the country and probably the whole world resting on our shoulders. That's messed up, isn't it? I mean, at least the world had all of America (and Britain, and sort of France, and a little bit Russia I think) against Hitler. This poor place had a witch, a liar, a time-space-traveler-by-accident, a bastard prince, a healer, a man whose people wanted to destroy it, a misplaced nobleman, and a dog. The odds weren't really in our favor.

Alistair and I did not endeavor to shave my legs as I all but passed out the second we left the main room of the Pearl for our cheap beds. We did, however, sleep together – insomuch that my pillow was Alistair's chest. I didn't wake up beside him, mostly because when I woke up he was already gone. When I finally dressed and left (I made the bed, because I always made the bed, and left three coppers because we tip where I'm from) the room in favor of the main room, everyone was already up and waiting for me. A plate of hot food (eggs AND bacon) and something that I think was meant to resemble a version of coffee, although it was more of a thick tea, was on one of the small tables and I was all but forced into a chair in front of it.

"We had to pull some strings," Aedan started, grinning at me. There were a few plates left on the table, but most of them were all but licked clean. The rest were removed already. "…but we got breakfast for everyone."

"What time is it? It has to be nearly noon!"

"No, it's not quite that late yet."

"Why didn't anyone wake me?"

No one responded immediately but then Aedan finally did, smiling sheepishly at me.

"Because no one wanted you to be in such a sour mood today."

I stuck my tongue out at him before I completely devoured the food. I didn't even take a second to think about how much money this little excursion had set us back. But it wasn't important because if anyone felt like I did, everything felt a little less impossible. Not a whole lot, but enough to make the long trek back the way we came to a village called Haven, located on the other side of Lake Calenhad from the docks to the Circle.

We were going to push and push, hoping to make it there in (hopefully) a little over a week. It was going to be awful, which is probably why they tried to placate me with a good night's rest and a decent breakfast (who am I kidding, it was a brilliant breakfast – bacon!) before we pushed on.

Whatever happened to horses?


	23. A Minor Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!

While we weren't able to find horses, we were able to hitch rides occasionally. Some people were still traversing the roads, despite the danger, and we all clamored into a cart here and there in exchange for protection. Sten got more than one odd look – truth be told, we all got them. We were definitely a ragtag group.

About a day's journey from Lake Calenhad, we stopped for the evening. We had been able to purchase some food from a farmer going to market. We had two chickens, cheese, bread, and wine. It was an extravagance for us and we would all be getting a small share, but it was definitely another bright spot.

We sat around the fire, me pressed between Aedan and Alistair again, though the former wasn't as close as the latter. We enjoyed a mess of chicken stew, with a small bit of cheese and a healthy piece of bread. Everyone took smaller pieces of cheese – except Sten – which left Alistair with a fair bit more, which he was incredibly grateful for. I hadn't ever met anyone that liked cheese quite as much as he did.

And then the wine.

We had two rather large bottles of the stuff and, although it was a sweet honey wine, it was definitely stronger than any wine I had had at home. It was like dessert and drinks at the same time, because of the taste. Sten, Wynne, and Morrigan were on watch that night and Leliana wasn't interested. She offered to take watch if someone else wanted wine, but they begged off – so Aedan, Alistair, and I polished off one of the bottles. It was more than enough. None of us were out-right drunk, but I could definitely feel the tingle in my body that came with being tipsy. At some point, we decided it was a good idea to dance. Calenhad, Leliana, and Wynne were the only ones awake aside from the three of us and Calenhad wasn't too interested in the goings on. Leliana was particularly amused and Wynne looked appropriately disapproving while trying to hide a smile.

It was incredible, letting go for another night. Our trip hadn't been particularly arduous up to that point but it had been long and the whole fighting-for-the-country thing was wearing regardless. It felt nice just to let go, even if the next day the three of us couldn't quite look at the sun.

When we finally got on the road again, we were almost immediately stopped by a young woman, begging for help.

Aedan looked at her with suspicious eyes and turned his head to speak over his shoulder to me.

"Trap?"

"Probably," I replied, but kept on moving forward. It most certainly was a trap, and a pain in the ass one at that. One that left us with a lot of corpses and one particularly odd blond elf, whose chest was currently beneath Aedan's boot.

"Now, tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here."

"Because, my friend, I have failed in my mission. If you kill me, I am dead; if I return to the Crows with you alive, I am dead. So, it stands to reason, that if I stay with you alive, it would benefit us both."

"Except, if you haven't been able to kill us, what makes you think you'll be of any use to us?" I spoke, curious more than anything. I didn't enjoy the idea of killing him, but it wasn't my job to make those decisions.

Oh wait, it was.

"I am a skilled, well-trained assassin. I was unaware of your prowess; my employer did not fully explain your abilities. And there was no mention of mages."

"Well, there are mages. Is this a problem?"

"Oh, hardly, mi amour! I do happen to quite love magic," he winked at me and I groaned inwardly. I had met guys like him at home, and I was entirely unimpressed. However, he was a pretty decent fighter.

"Fine," I spoke, despite the look that it caused to cross everyone's faces – except, maybe, Morrigan's. She seemed rather impressed by my decision, which in and of itself was something to note. Maybe I was making the wrong decision.

"What do you mean fine?" Alistair asked incredulously, putting a hand on my arm.

"I mean to say that he is welcome to join us. However," I turned back to the elf as Aedan, begrudgingly, let him stand. He did not, however, help him. "…We will be watching out backs and you will not be involved in our watches, at least not until you've proven yourself loyal."

"He's an assassin for hire, I do not believe he can be loyal," Wynne responded, looking almost sick.

"Well, I hope you're wrong," I responded with a sigh, "because watching my back will grow tiresome."

"Then don't let him come along," Aedan shook his head, glancing sideways at the blond elf.

"Too late," I finalized, sheathing my weapons before we gathered what supplies we could and moved back onto the road to continue our travels.


	24. Highest Heights

We finally arrived in Haven after the long journey and another climb up the mountain path that led to the village.

"They couldn't make this easy on us, could they?" I laughed, shaking my head a little as we finally made it to the top.

"What's the fun in that?" Zevran asked, laughing a little with his Spanish-sounding accent.

"I like him," I responded with a smile, glancing at Alistair. He looked a little put out by my comment but didn't say anything back to me.

Sten snorted at the entire conversation, his jaw clenching as we made it to the landing at the top of the mountain. Or the highest part we thought we would have to climb, at any rate. It was far from the top, but the rest of the mountain didn't matter to us. At least not yet.

We were accosted almost immediately upon setting foot on the flat land of the mountain's plateau, a man dressed in full leather armor directing us to leave almost immediately. He seemed extremely put out that we were there, although he did say that we were free to trade before we quickly removed ourselves from where we were not wanted.

As we left him, moving towards the shop that he had directed us to, Sten spoke.

"Do you intend to attack the Archdemon from the mountain top?"

"No, Sten. I intend to find Brother Genitivi, the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and cure the Arl."

"And this Arl will defeat the Blight?"

"No, Sten. The Arl's men will help us."

"Do you know this for sure?"

"No," I frowned, turning around to look at him. "If you have something you want to say, just say it."

"The Archdemon is our goal and you are taking us as far away from it as you can. Running away is not going to defeat the Blight. I will not follow you as you run from battle."

"Sten. I'm not running. We're not running. We are taking time to help bolster our numbers."

"We are wasting time, not taking it."

"Sten, I have told everyone here time and time again that you are free to leave if you choose. I believe that this is the best course of action and anyone that disagrees can wait here or just leave."

Sten's eyes bore into me while I waited for a response. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is this the best course of action, Warden."

"My name is Gwen," I responded, frowning. "And it is the best course of action because we need as much help as we can get."

"You have the treaties, do you not?"

"Yes, but a larger army will certainly not hurt."

"And what if these ashes do not cure the Arl?"

I frowned; the thought had crossed my mind more than once. But I had promised I would try. "Then I have done my best and perhaps Lady Isolde will grant us the use of the army regardless. I made a promise to do this and I will see it through, mountain or no."

"Promises," Sten snorted, shaking his head. "And do you intend to make promises to the Archdemon?"

"I promise to kill it," I raised my eyebrows at him, unable to raise just one. He harrumphed in response.

"And you can keep this promise?"

"I can die trying. Now, Sten, will you come with us or leave?"

"I owe you my life," he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides from being folded across his chest. "But if we continue to run, I will not stay."

"I don't know how many times I can tell you we're not running. We have many things to do that will take us away from the Archdemon – not that we even know where it is. How can I make us run from somewhere that isn't determined?"

"You should have said that to begin. It is a valid argument, if flimsy."

I rolled my eyes, "If you're coming, come along. That goes for all of you. There is something awfully fishy about this place and we still have to find Genitivi."

I began shaking inside my armor as I turned back around, more afraid of Sten than I wanted to admit. He could have easily bested me in combat and taken control. He could have killed me without flinching, likely. That went for most of my companions, I imagined. I was still questionable with daggers, although I was learning. Arrows would do me little good in close combat, as we had learned time and time again. I was getting faster, though, out of necessity and that would prove useful.

We trekked up the mountain to the shop and found another less than welcoming villager acting as the shopkeeper. He let us trade some but hurried us out again. There was a smell. A smell that I was unfortunately familiar with. I gave Aedan a look, hoping against hope that he would glean my meaning from my glance to the back room.

Gloriously, he did. He began to strike up a conversation with the shopkeeper, turning his body so that the man had to lose focus on me. As quietly as I could, I skirted around the edge of the counter, moving into the open doorway. The smell was stronger there and I moved around – faster when I heard, "Girl, get out of there! You are not welcome!" and hurried footsteps after me.

When I turned a final corner in the room, leading me into a small alcove, I saw the source of the smell of rotting flesh.

A dead knight. A Redcliffe knight, if the insignia on the shield at his side was any indicator.

I turned about to call to the others and was promptly hit upside the head with something very, very hard. My vision was blurred but I felt it again, near my temple, and that is all I remember.

When I awoke again, there were now two dead bodies near me with Alistair's hand gently stroking my face. I groaned a little and lifted a hand to the side of my head, my hand coming away slick with blood.

"Have a healing potion," Aedan offered and I took it, drinking less than half. Alistair helped me to my feet and I wobbled a moment before the potion took effect.

"Well, I think we've found where all the knights have disappeared to," I frowned pointing at the dead body that had led me to the corner.

"I can only imagine what kind of ruckus this will bring," Wynne frowned a little, shaking her head.

"We've got to continue on, I imagine. Maybe back down the path to where the houses are. Perhaps there is something that we missed."

I shivered as we trekked back down the mountain. I was certain Genitivi was there, despite how hopeless it looked. All of the research that Alistair and I had come across led us to this village, which meant that it had led Genitivi there too. And the knights had thought so too.

They must've stumbled on something because they were all dead now, at least the ones that had found Haven. Or else something worse, because they had not made it back to Redcliffe. The guard looked none too pleased when we began snooping about the village. One particular incident, in which we went into a house only to find an alter dripping in blood, led us to be attacked by the townspeople. It felt wrong killing them, but it was in defense as they came after us. I thought we might try to merely detain them but they kept on coming back. And so we decimated the village of Haven, leaving me feeling sick to my stomach as we went up the mountain once more.

About halfway up, we were set upon again. An odd sound, like singing, caught me off guard when the Chantry came into view.

"I wonder if they know at all," I frowned, thinking of the trail of death we had left in our wake. Finally, we entered – cautiously but with our weapons staid.

They did know. They knew as they spoke of a "Her" that they must protect and as they came after us, another group of people I had no desire to kill but had no choice either.

It took us some time, looking about the old and very cold building to find a man, broken and bleeding on the floor.

"Have you come to finish the job?"

"No… no, I don't believe so. Are you…you aren't Brother Genitivi by any chance, are you?"

"I am. And who are you?"

"My name is Gwen. We're Grey Wardens, looking for the Urn. And you, actually."

Brother Genitivi, as Wynne set his leg and we offered him healing potions, told us of how he had come to find Haven and how he had been abducted and beaten (more than once). He told us, too, that the Urn was at the top of the mountain, in an ancient temple that the villagers of Haven had been guarding for centuries.

"And now they're dead," I frowned, helping him finally to stand.

He mentioned a key, a pendant around the neck of the dead leader. I excused myself and went to retrieve it, feeling sick and dizzy as I took the pendant from the dead man. It was something I still hated, looting. Others would do it but I tried desperately not to, except for chests and sacks. I would take from those, but I rarely knelt to a dead man and removed his belongings. It felt so very, very wrong.

With the help of Alistair and Aedan, we were able to bring Genitivi up to the entrance of the massive temple building. The air grew colder as we climbed. It seemed to take hours for us to reach our destination, but that was mostly because of the incline and the weather. Eventually we were inside.

I had to stop for the beauty of it. Certainly it was decrepit and freezing, even with large fires roaring in piles of broken support beams. That meant someone was there, no doubt. More villagers.

It was a grand building, made of stone with broken stained-glass windows falling out here and there. It was massive and an impressive feat for people hundreds of years before this medieval time that I had fallen into. It reminded me of the Vatican, a place I had only seen in pictures but was still able to marvel at the construction.

"I should stay here, I will only hinder your travel up the mountain. You must tell me everything, though, when you return."

"Of course," I responded and we left him in the entrance to the temple, moving further in to the freezing depths. We were set upon again and again by hordes of followers of Andraste (that's what they called themselves). Finally we made our way through the temple, back onto the snow-covered mountain top.

"I wish it was warmer here. You know, just once, I'd like to go somewhere tropical without large groups of murderous people or things trying to kill us," I laughed a little, Alistair and Aedan chuckling in response.

"I would suggest Antiva, but that would only take care of one problem," Zevran chimed in. "It's beautiful there. Smells much better, too."

"Shh," Leliana started, holding her hand up as she took a step forward, moving silently forward towards a broken stone pillar.

We halted where we were, slowly and quietly removing our weapons as Leliana disappeared for a moment. She came back quickly, still quiet. "If we wish to avoid an altercation with a very large, angry looking dragon we may wish to be very, very quiet up ahead."

"Shit," I breathed, the idea of facing a dragon of any kind rather terrifying – angry or not. Trying to even out my breathing, I pressed forward and we all moved as quietly as we could while still moving. The path was covered in snow and an unfortunate icy patch.

I didn't know it was there and by the time I found it, it was too late. My foot slid on the ice and I collapsed down onto the rock bridge that led to the next step in our journey. I fell on my knee but managed not to scream, despite the pain that shot through my leg. However, the force of my leg pushing the snow forward was enough to disturb some rocks at the edge of the bridge. I leaned over, trying desperately to catch the rocks before they fell. I nearly fell over myself – if it wasn't for Sten grabbing my around the waist with both hands I would have been crashing on the rocks hundreds of feet below.

He pulled me to my feet in time for me to see the dragon sweep down, the top of one of the pillars knocking off and nearly crashing onto Mather. It let out a roar that shook me to my bones, landing in the open space off the side of the bridge.

It was magnificent, if terrifying – the size of a small house or a large semi-truck and trailer. Its wings made it twice as wide, its head the size of a small car. It shone in the sun, the light that bounced off of the bright snow. It looked almost black to begin with but with the light highlighted the red tone that shimmered on its scales.

"You can kill me later," I laughed a little, rubbing my knee before getting my bow ready. "We can either try to run really, really fast or stay and take it out."

"We should make quick work of it," Zevran spoke, nodding a little.

"I agree. I don't want to be barbeque any time soon," I responded, knocking an arrow and aiming it. We were still far enough away that I could get a shot off without the dragon being able to do much retaliating.

"What's barbeque?"

"I'll explain later." And I thought I could make their lives better by introducing it. Maybe barbequed dragon meat?

I snorted a little at the thought, letting loose my arrow as Sten, Alistair, Zevran, Aedan, and Mather rushed forward. Leliana was readying a poison on her blades and Morrigan was casting a spell on the men to ensure that they didn't roast. I began to fire arrow after arrow, dodging to the side at the first sign of smoke from the dragon's nostrils. It took us a long, long time to bring the dragon down. It had no intention of dying, it seemed. It also seemed like a travesty, killing it. It was a massive, beautiful thing that was doing nothing but defending itself. This wasn't the Archdemon. This was a creature that had done nothing but protect its home.

With it on the ground, I turned to Morrigan. "Is there anything you can do to keep it down? Knock it out or something, so we don't have to kill it?"

She looked put out and a little tired but, with a small frown, bent her head and closed her eyes as she moved her hands around and around. The dragon's side was still heaving up and down slowly with breath and it continued to do so even after Morrigan shot a large purple light at it. The light covered its entire body, looking something like a bubble.

"That should keep it for a time. I do not know if it will be safe to pass by again when we return, but it will allow us to continue on for now."

"Thank you," I responded, brushing the snow off of my pants and retrieving what arrows I could before we pressed on again.


	25. Gauntlet and Ghosties

We pushed onward and backward – or it felt backward, at least – until we reached a place that seemed untouched by time. The archways were solid still, the stone unharmed by water or wind. In the far corner of the room, in front of a massive and ornate door, stood a man. His armor was as impressive as the door, if not moreso in its shiny-ness. Yes. Shiny-ness.

Anyhow. He introduced himself as The Guardian, called me a pilgrim, and told me that we were, in fact, on our way to the Urn. And that he was really, really old. When he spoke, it kind of reminded me of the possessed version of Connor – only less scary. No less intimidating, but less scary. And loud. Booming.

Unbidden, he told us the story of the Guardians – the Andrastaens that guarded (redundant, I know) the Urn. Told us about how the crazy people in Haven had been like him once, but had forgotten Andraste – or who she really was, I guess. Well, he didn't say it was the crazy people on the mountain but I inferred. It made a lot of sense, considering.

I digress.

He had been around when Andraste was alive, or so he led me to believe. Mind you, I wasn't particularly up on my Ferelden religious lore or information or whatever, but this seemed pretty impressive. Either he was crazy, or this lady was real. Which was all fine and dandy, because it implied that the ashes were real.

Which was very, very good.

I started to get a little nervous when he talked about the faithful, though. I couldn't very well be faithful to a religion I didn't know anything about – and I wasn't particularly religious to begin with.

"I…" I started, unsure of myself suddenly. Well, it wasn't that sudden. I was pretty much always unsure of myself. I swallowed and set my shoulders straight, trying to smile at the ethereal, should-be-dead dude. "We have come to…see the Urn, Guardian."

"You have come to honor Andraste," he correct, somehow. How he knew what I intended to do, one way or the other, I was unsure. But I didn't change his mind. "And you shall, if you prove yourself worthy."

Shit.

"How…how do I prove I am worthy?"

"It is not my place to decide, the Gauntlet does that. If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be permitted to take a small pinch of ashes."

Perfect.

"But?"

"You will meet the Maker otherwise."

"What…is this Gauntlet?"

"It tells the true pilgrims from the false. You will undergo four tests of faith and see how your soul fares."

Double-shit. Triple-shit. Fuck.

I let out a shaky sigh and nodded slightly, smiling sheepishly at him before I adjusted my belt.

"Well..then…"

"Before you go, there is something I must ask."

I stopped mid-step and looked back to him, nearly on top of him as I had moved and he had not. "O-of course."

"There is an immense amount of suffering and confusion in your past. You abandoned your younger sister to a fate worse than death when you chose to leave, yet you try so hard to believe that she did not suffer as you did. I see the long, arduous path you have travelled in the lines of your face and the scars on your heart. Tell me, child, do you believe that she is all right?"

"Yes," I blurted before I could stop myself, furious and crying but shaking with the attempt to stay calm. "It was me they hated," I offered, trying to bite my tongue but failing. "They never harmed her. Never would."

And it was true. It was the truest thing I had ever felt about my life before; I believed with everything I was that my half-sister was safe with my mother and the man that had raised me, her father. It was me they hated, me that had broken our family, me that had deserved (and received) the entirety of the abuse. And as long as she was safe, I would do it again and again until it killed me. When I was gone, everything went back to normal. They were a happy family with only one daughter when I went to college. We never spoke again.

He looked at me for a long moment, eyes boring into mine before he stepped aside. "Thank you. That is all I wished to know."

I felt sick as we stepped forward; I could hear everyone's footsteps behind me although I swear I had proper tunnel vision as we pushed through the doors, leaving the Guardian behind.

Just before Alistair's hand made contact with my shoulder, I saw the ghosts. I stopped cold, staring at the eight figures around the room. I felt frozen. I had seen plenty, but this was something else entirely.

Hesitantly, I approached the first one. After a brief second of hesitation, I heard footsteps behind me. I continued on to the first specter and said, "Um, hello?"

I was smooth.

As if on cue, the woman's figure began to speak.

"Echoes from a shadow realm, whispers of things yet to come. Thought's strange sister dwells in night, is swept away by dawning light. Of what do I speak?"

I gawked a moment and quickly tried to replay what she had said in my head. It was a riddle. A freaking riddle.

How was this religious?

Whatever. Echoes, shadows, whispers, future…thought, night…

"D…dreams?"

And then she began to speak again, this time a story and not a question.

This continued on and on. Every time I answered, I held my breath. I was unsure of what would happen if I answered incorrectly. Would we die immediately and without question? Would our journey end? Would I fail before I truly began?

But, after seven more riddles and seven more stories, I could finally breathe again.

I stopped for a moment before continuing, still shaken to the core.

Alistair's hand made it to my shoulder this time, "That was brilliant, Gwen." His voice was soft and I smiled, although weakly.

"Thanks, Alistair. I was terrified to find out what would happen if I got it wrong."

"I knew we'd be fine," he grinned at me. And, for a moment, I believed him. He had faith in me. That was an odd thing to acknowledge.

"We're not out of the woods yet."

"Of course not. We are in a mountain," Sten spoke, his voice sounding as if he was raising an eyebrow though I doubted he would show so much emotion.

I snorted a little, feeling a little lighter. "It's an expression. Like…we're not safe yet. We're not in the clear."

"It is an odd expression."

"Well, I'm an odd duck."

"You are not- oh. Is this an expression too?"

"Yes."

"Very well."


	26. Faith or Something Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nudity! Not...like...sexual nudity. But still. It happened.

After the run-in with the specters of people I had never met and now knew only slightly more about, we moved through a large doorway and into a sort of alcove with two entryways leading off, around a large stone pillar. Or a wall. I think it was a wall.

But I wasn't paying much attention to our surroundings when we walked in, however, because a too-familiar figure was standing with her back to me.

"Fi?" I gasped, not believing my eyes. Sure, I was in this far-away land but my little sister couldn't be there.

The figure turned and my heart leapt into my throat. It was good to see her. And all grown up, too. She had to be seventeen now, almost eighteen. Maybe eighteen, depending on how time moved here comparatively.

She was blonde, like our mother, with dark eyes like her father. Her skin, darker than mine and golden with the sun, looked healthy and not at all malnourished like it could have been. Like mine had been, long ago.

She was tall like me and her lips, they were mine. When she smiled, I saw my smile. And she was smiling.

"Gwen. It's so good to see you."

"…You can't be…" I breathed, taking a step forward.

"I'm not. Not really. Sort of. I don't really understand it, but I'm not really your sister. I'm a projection of you both."

"Can you tell me…is she okay?"

"Yes," the figure responded with my sister's mouth. She extended her arms and I walked into them, hugging her despite my armor. She felt real. She felt like Fiona. "You were right."

I let go and wiped at my eyes, wetting my gloves. "Good."

"I don't – she doesn't blame you. And you shouldn't blame yourself. And you should forgive them."

Give up a decade of hate for the two people that had made my life far less than pleasant. Give up the guilt of leaving Fiona behind, even if I desperately wanted to believe that she was okay. That she always had been. That she didn't know what our parents had done.

"…I will try."

"It is difficult, I know. But it is necessary. You have a long, hard road in front of you and you don't need anything that will make it harder."

A hand found my shoulder and I looked across into eyes that were not familiar but were very much the same.

"She loves you," the figure spoke again before the hand squeezed. "Go now, Gwen. You have much to do. Be watchful."

And then, poof. She was gone. She was gone and I was there, trying not to cry again. And we were standing there, just silently, with everyone watching my back or trying not to.

"Well," I cleared my throat, clenching and unclenching my jaw. "Onward and upward, I suppose."

And when we did, in fact, move on – surprisingly, no one questioned the appearance of my sister. I imagine they were either confused or just concerned that I wouldn't respond well to inquiries – we were accosted by ourselves. Ghost-like versions, which took a sword or an arrow like any of us, attacked without question. It was odd, at first, to attack people that looked like my friends. But it was kill or be killed, and I had no intention of dying that day.

After a moment of breathing and potion-taking, Alistair moved over to me and settled his gauntleted hand on my shoulder. He didn't say anything, just looked at me. I lifted my leather-covered hand to cover his briefly before I cleared my throat.

"It seems like we're making good time." Alistair and I disconnected and we started forward again, moving through the doorway into another room. "He said 'four tests'? Learning about Andraste, standing up to my past, overcoming ourselves. I imagine there will be some sort of team-building exerc-"

I nearly toppled over the side of a cliff. Well, into a chasm. It was so far down, all I could see was black. There were large square stones in a circle around the blackness and, across it, I could make out another doorway and firelight beyond.

"This looks…dangerous." Zevran commented, a blond eyebrow raised from my side.

I reached into my pocket and withdrew a copper. I tossed it out, in a straight line from where I stood, and watched it disappear down into the darkness.

"Well, it isn't a faith exercise," I snorted, stepping back from the ledge and crossing my arms over my shoulder. I heard shuffling to my side and then, in the middle of the darkness, a large stone platform appeared.

"Everybody stop moving," I turned and surveyed our group to find that Alistair had moved to the side, probably trying to find some kind of lever, and was now standing on one of the large stones that sat around the edge of the chasm.

"Alistair, would you step off that a second?"

"Did I break something?"

"No, I think you've found the solution to our problem."

"Oh. Well. I knew that." He grinned as he stepped back and the stone, as quickly as it had come, fell disappeared again.

After several minutes of stone-hopping, we had positioned Zevran, Wynne, and Alistair on three stones that had created a solid path across. I took out another copper and tossed it – this time, it stayed in the air.

"Perfect," I said as I put my foot out onto the first stone. I probably should have asked Sten to stand beside me and grab me, or something, but I didn't. I believed that we had conquered this quest, like the last two.

And I was right.

Which is good because if I had been wrong, I think I would have been very dead.

I made it across the pathway to the other side and waited for someone else to come. First Sten, then Morrigan, Leliana, and finally Aedan followed by Mather. Once they were across, the three that had been on stones tentatively stepped off of them. The pathway seemed to be maintained. "Let's test it," I offered, tossing out a third copper coin.

"Seems like a waste of money, no?" Zevran asked with a small smile.

"The equipment they're wearing is worth a lot more than one copper," I offered in response, to which he laughed. When the copper stayed on the stones, Alistair moved slowly out onto the first large slab. He bent over and picked up the copper piece before continuing on. Wynne and Zevran followed quickly behind.

Finally we were all standing on the right side of the pathway and moved through the doorway, stopping in a hallway just short of the next room. Through the doorway, the final doorway, I could see what looked like a podium. Beyond that there was fire. An arch, half-moon from one wall to the other, keeping us from entering further than a few feet.

Standing behind the fire, far enough away from it to remain unsinged, we could still see a staircase. It led up to a platform, upon which stood a statue of who I assumed to be Andraste.

"I…I thought this was a legend," Wynne spoke, shaking her head from my side.

"But the question is…" I frowned, walking along the line of the fire. "What do we do?"

"Gwen," Aedan spoke, waving me over. I moved to stand beside him, looking down at a piece of ancient parchment that was sitting atop the podum-thing.

"Oh. Oh my."

"What does it say?"

"'Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in goodness of spirit. Kings and slavers, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight.'"

"Well," I started, tugging off my gauntlet. My cheeks were hot, but not from the flames. I began to undo the buckles on my breastplate, sighing a little. "Let's get naked."

"Wait, what?" Alistair asked, turning incredulously to me as his eyes followed my hands.

"What else can that mean? You all don't have to, I can go on my own."

"You mean you're going to take your clothes off and walk through those flames?"

"That appears to be what is being asked of me." I had finally gotten out of my breastplate and was working on the trappings on my legs. I stood in my tunic, bending over as I spoke. "So I will take off my clothes and walk through the fire."

It was a little awkward, standing in silence as I took off the remainder of my clothing. After the armor was off, it was pretty easy. I hesitated a moment with my breastband and though on how it was slightly funny that Alistair was going to see me naked, but I knew that I had to do this.

It wasn't a suggestion in that piece of paper.

So, standing as naked as I was the day I was born, I left my clothes in a crumpled heap and moved towards the wall of fire.

"What a lovely view," Zevran murmured and I could feel his eyes burning along my back.

I snorted in amused discomfort. "You know, you could not look."

"What is the fun in that?"

Aedan, for his part, was averting his eyes. Alistair's face was bright red, although I couldn't tell if it was from my exchange with Zevran or because he had snuck a peak.

As I had no response for Zevran, I turned my attention back to the fire in front of me. I stared at it, evening out my breathing.

The hardest part was over; I was naked. Now I just had to trust in this Maker that He would let no harm come to me.

He had saved my sister, or at least I wanted to believe so. Maybe God was the Maker here. Maybe I had been born in the wrong place and time and this Maker was righting the universe by bringing me to be with people that appreciated and needed me.

Maybe He knew what He was doing after all.

And, with that thought, I put my foot out in front of me and took a step.


	27. Lying to a Brother

It tickled. The flames licked at my fingers, my legs, my hips. It was cool, like a breeze, and it made the hair stand up all over my body. But I wasn't dead, or dying.

I was fine.

When I reached the other side of the wall, I turned back to the group only to see that the fire was gone.

"I didn't imagine that and take my clothes off for no reason, right?"

"Do you need a reason?" Zevran asked and Alistair cleared his throat while Wynne moved to bring me my clothing. As she approached, the Guardian appeared at the back of the group.

"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet. You have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrim."

I bit my tongue, wanting to ask how She managed the last puzzle by Herself but deciding it was inappropriate, and quickly began to dress again.

"You have done all that was asked of you. You may approach the Urn and remove a pinch of ashes to return with, if you so desire."

I wanted to ask if they'd work, if we'd wasted our time – but part of me didn't need to. Despite my original misgivings, I was comfortable with the idea that we had done the right thing. Finally clothed with my armor in place, I took the long staircase up and retrieved a small pinch of ashes. I stood a moment longer, looking up into the stone face of the Prophet Andraste. Whispering a quiet thanks, I returned down the stairs to rejoin the group. Wynne and Leliana were engrossed in their surroundings and Alistair and Aedan were watching me. Sten and Morrigan looked equally put out, but Zevran seemed to be enjoying himself despite the fact that he wasn't doing much of anything.

"Best be on our way," I spoke as I reached the floor again, tucking the small pouch of ashes into my makeshift fanny pack. "We've got to skirt around that dragon and pick up Genitivi again. I imagine he'll be particularly excited about this discovery."

"He'll be even more excited if the ashes work."

"When," I responded to Aedan with a wan smile. "They don't have a choice; they're going to do what we think they do if I have to find someone to bless them. Or something. I didn't walk naked through fire to end up with burnt firewood."

"Best be careful what you say," Alistair frowned, nodding his head in the direction of the Guardian. The ethereal man didn't seem to notice much what I was saying and offered to show us a sneaky path out of the room we were in so that we didn't have to traverse all the way back through to the entrance. It led us onto a path on the mountainside that curve around, leading us right back passed where we had left the dragon. It wasn't there, thank the Maker, but we hurried despite ourselves. No one was prepared for another run-in with it.

We returned to Brother Genitivi and were immediately bombarded with a million questions. I didn't like the way he worded things.

"Did you find anything? If you found something, I have to write about it. People must know! This would be an incredible discovery."

Finally he stopped long enough for me to respond and I frowned at him. "Unfortunately all we found was a really big dragon."

I heard a small, sharp intake of breath behind me – I think it was Leliana – and Brother Genitivi scrutinized me. "That's all? Was there nothing in the mountain?"

"Ruins, to be sure, but not much else."

His eyes narrowed and he watched me, frowning for a long while before his shoulders slumped and we made to leave the antechamber. "That is such a shame. I wonder what happened."

"Someone else probably found it years ago," I shrugged, "Perhaps those crazy cultist defiled it in an attempt to bring their version of Andraste back. Religious zealots do odd things."

He harrumphed a little but we carried on for a long while, leaving back through the town and on our way back to Redcliffe. Brother Genitivi would be able to find a cart back to Denerim there.

I was in front with Alistair, walking in silence with Brother Genitivi slowing Aedan down at the back of the group. Alistair leaned close to me – the sun was setting, we would be making camp soon – and spoke quietly in my ear.

"Why did you lie?"

"I had a bad feeling about him," I responded, trying to whisper. I doubted he would be able to make out what we were saying even at our regular volume, but I didn't want to deal with it if he could. "Where I am from, a lot of discoveries get ruined because people get over-excited. I didn't want to see him turn it into some…carnival. And if the Maker hasn't led mass amounts of people to discover it, far be it from me to be the person that changes that."

"Do you believe in the Maker, then?"

"I'm not sure," I returned my voice to a normal volume; he could hear this. "I don't know how I can't, with everything that's been going on. I don't know what to believe; I mean, for crying out loud, I'm leading a small band of…whatever we are," I waved my hand about to encompass the whole group, "with the intent of saving a nation from a giant, scary, evil dragon thing. And I'm still alive. It's only been like a month and a half, but we're still alive. And that's pretty impressive."


	28. Bare Legs and Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More nudity. Slightly more sexual, but still not quite.

The trip back to Redcliffe Castle was not a short one, but it was a fair bit shorter than the trip to Denerim would be. It was longer even with Genitivi along for the…walk. At one point, Sten grumbled something about carrying him. We were about to make it back in four days with the extra baggage. I was grumpy by the time we settled Genitivi in a cart towards Denerim, assuring him that I would write a letter to inform him of the results. He had "much to do", for which I was grateful because it was one less person I had to listen to. I was ready for a bath and a night by myself. I was hoping, praying, that we would be offered a night in the castle before we set out on our own again. I needed space.

Not from Alistair. No, I think exactly how much I wanted him was part of the reason I was so cranky when we arrived with the ashes to the bedroom. Wynne, without complaint, mixed the ashes with a health poultice in a manner that she believed would be the most beneficial before she administered it to the still-sleeping Arl.

I wanted Alistair so badly, it was keeping me awake at night. Not every night, and not every minute of the day. It was easy to distract myself if I caught it before it overwhelmed me but once it was in my head, it wouldn't leave for all the darkspawn in the world.

The easiest thing to do was, for the time being, avoid him. After we administered the ashes to the Arl and told him the great tales of what had happened while he had been nearly dead. He declared us Champions of Redcliffe and gave us quite a boon of supplies before asking us to stay at the castle at least for the night before we went on our merry way.

I asked for a bath.

And boy, did I get one.

The Arl set me up with a very large tub and women to pour warm water over me and a tray of beautifully scented soap. They even changed the water twice so that I was able to lounge in mostly clean, soap water with everything on me clean and the scent of roses and embrium relaxing me.

If only we could stay at Redcliffe forever. But we still had so very much to do. Where we would go next, I had no idea. To the dwarves? To the elves? We had no idea where, in fact, the elves were. We had the mages enlisted already, after Aedan's trip to the Circle. The dwarves were the farthest to the west, it probably made the most sense. To go the farthest out of the way before we went back to the hub of Ferelden and dealt with Loghain. Arl Eamon was going to gather up as much support as he could from the other leaders of the country while we continued to work on gathering an army to bolster our numbers.

I groaned and forced my mind away from such things, trying desperately to think of nothing at all. All I wanted was to drown – not literally – in the warmth and pleasant smell of soaps unlike anything I had ever touched before.

I was lost in the moment before I realized my hand had started moving of its own accord. Soon enough my thoughts drifted from relaxation to Alistair. To being with Alistair.

I had never been one much for masturbation; it just wasn't something that I felt the need to do very often. I hadn't touched myself since well before I arrived in Ferelden. But being alone and comfortable and the fact that I couldn't even think his name without wanting to jump him all meant that I could barely stop myself. And that I didn't really want to.

I was close to finally finding some relief when the door cracked open. I jerked my arm up, slamming my elbow into the tub and splashing water on the floor.

"Gwen?"

Oh dear Jesus, I groaned and sunk into the water. It was Alistair. Of course it was Alistair. I was going to explode. "Yes?"

"Can I…eehhh…I mean…I don't…I should go."

"Alistair, it's fine," I glanced down; the soap bubbles that I had kicked up earlier. He wouldn't be able to see much. Not that it bothered me, but I thought the shock might kill him.

The door opened a little more and Alistair stepped in before he realized I was actually still in the bath, at which point he stood slack-jawed with the door mostly closed behind him. "You…you are…you're naked."

"People tend to not wear clothes in the bath. Did you need something?"

"No… I… just…" he swallowed audibly and ran a hand back through his recently trimmed hair. His face was flushed red as he lifted his other hand. In it was what looked like a weird switchblade. After a second, I realized what it was and started laughing.

He was going to kill me. Not literally. But he had come in here, intending to touch my legs, to lead me on, to drive me crazy. It would be less painful if he really did just slit my throat.

"Well then, you should probably pull up a chair or…hmm…Actually, I'll get out and that'll probably be easier."

I started to stand and Alistair seemed like he was going to keel over before he spun around, fast as he ever was in battle. I snorted a little, shaking my head as I slid out of the tub and found a towel to wrap beneath my arms. "I think…I mean, I've never done this before, so I don't really know. But I think if I sit in a chair and you kneel on the floor, it'll be the best angle."

"There should be some lather in here," he turned, moving towards the basin on the other side of the room that allowed him to look away from me. When he turned around I was seated in a chair, sitting pretty unladylike but still not showing off anything above my mid-thigh or much below my shoulders.

Alistair's face was as red as I had ever seen it as he knelt down in front of me, one knee beneath him and one knee bent to put my foot on it. He was dressed in plainclothes that were perhaps a little tight, but in a very good way. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from touching him. His hand ran up my leg and I winced, not used to a man seeing my legs hairy. Or, lately, at all. He frowned and looked at my face, "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

"No…no, it's not that. It's just…they're so hairy. It's weird to have you touching them." I smiled wanly and he ran his hand down my leg, the warmth of his hand against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. He began to lather my leg from the knee down on my shin. He held my leg gently with his hand curved back around my calf.

He flicked open the razor before pressing it lightly, sideways, against my skin near my ankle. He slowly slid the razor upwards and I didn't even flinch; I didn't expect him to hurt me. I was too focused on trying not to jump him and have my way with him. I eventually let myself relax, my body thrumming with desire for him as I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. Alistair was talking, quietly and lowly, about something – fishing, I think. It was just the sound of his voice that I wanted; it didn't matter if he was talking about battle plans or what he ate for dinner.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked after a long moment of silence, he was nearly done.

"Mmm-hmm," I opened my eyes, looking down at his tousled blond hair.

"I-I," he started, his left hand running down my calf, "I love feeling your skin. Is…is that okay?"

I laughed a little and leaned forward when he pulled the razor from my skin and set it aside. He slid his hands from my ankles to my knees and I shivered, moving my hands to cover his and leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"Yes it's okay. I'm glad that you want me. But you…can't tease me like this," I smiled at him, kissing the end of his nose and sliding my hands away from his.

"Like this?" he responded, his hands slipping up my legs a little more. I groaned and gripped the edges of the chair.

The warmth of his hands on my skin, edging closer and closer to the exact spot at which I yearned for him, made my breath come faster. "Alistair."

"Hmm?" he intoned, his thumbs rubbing circles on my inner thighs.

He had seen me naked before, when I walked through the fire to get the Urn. This was different. I had a purpose then, I was in front of a group of people. But in those moments, we were alone in a room in a castle. A thin towel separated his eyes from my nakedness and his layers of clothes would be easy enough to remove.

"Alistair, if you're not ready, then I need you to stop," I smiled weakly, releasing my grip on the chair. "You are driving me absolutely crazy and I want you to touch me everywhere."

He colored but his hands didn't move. He stood up, leaning over with his hands still on my skin. They slid a little closer to my knees before one of them lifted and settled on the back of the chair above my shoulder. He kissed my forehead and then my nose, then my lips. His other hand moved and he pressed himself closer to me, his other hand curving around my cheek. The hand that had been on the chair moved to my waist and he pulled me to stand against him, tilting my head back and kissing me like I was dying all over again.

"I will," he responded, his hand slipping to my neck and his other arm curving around my back to hold me close. "I will touch and kiss every part of me you will allow me to. I want to memorize everything about you."

It was my turn to blush. Alistair rarely sounded so sure of himself, but in those moments I believed he whole-heartedly meant everything that he said. His fingers slipped into the damp hair above my neck and he curved his fingers into my locks. "Can I see you?" he asked, his voice quiet as he looked into my eyes with his blue ones.

I wanted to say no because I wasn't sure I'd survive it, but I wanted to say yes more. I pulled back away from him enough so that he had to disconnect from me. I lifted my right arm to hold onto the place I had bunched the towels beneath my arm and then my left hand to take out the edge of the towel, pulling it away from my body and then just letting it fall to the floor. It seemed like a very movie-esque move, but my whole life was out of whack and didn't make any sense so I figured I could get away with it.

I was watching his face as my hands moved and the towel fell away. Between the look on his face and the gasp that left his lips, I was pretty proud of myself.

"You…are…beautiful," he breathed, his eyes shifting from my body to my eyes, back and forth. "Ravishing."

"Ravishing?" I grinned, putting my hands on my hips. His eyes widened and he reached out, his fingers brushing my uncovered upper arm. "I'll take it."

"This was a bad idea," he half-chuckled, although he didn't look or sound like he agreed with the words that came out of his mouth. "Can…can I touch you?"

"You just said you wanted to see," I teased, but lifted my arms in surrender. "I will not be held accountable for my actions if you tease me too much. But I suppose it would be wrong of me to say no."

"I'm beginning to think waiting is a bad idea," he murmured, his hands making warm contact with my hips. "How have I not taken this opportunity before?"

"Beats me," I laughed a little, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair a little. "But I'm not doing anything today. What are you planning on doing with your evening?"

"Standing here, taking in all of you for as long as you'll let me," his grin was lopsided but the flash in his eyes was obvious. His hand slid up my side, his thumb just barely skimming the edge of my breast. I suppressed the urge to lean into him, curling my toes to distract myself.

"I…uh… I'll get cold eventually," I smiled at him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. He wasn't about to let me go, however, and he slid his hands behind my back and pulled me close. He moaned into the kiss when my chest made contact with his shirt. The roughness of the linen against my bare skin sent a shock to my core and my fingers curled into his hair of their own accord.

"I'll do my very best to keep you warm," he murmured against my lips and I sighed as his hand slid from my back to my rear.

"Why not tonight?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"That…" he said, kissing from my lips to my neck, "…is a very good question."

"Does it get an answer?" I smiled, tilting my head to give him better access and grasping his shoulder tightly with one hand.

"I have an idea," he kissed my collarbone, hesitating briefly before he straightened up and looked into my eyes again. "Get dressed and meet me in the front hall in ten minutes. But don't put on too much."

I watched him gather the things he brought with him and leave while I stood there, completely naked and more than a little confused.

Did this mean I was finally going to get some?


	29. Tent on a Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they finally get it on. That means there's sex.

I was in the front hall before Alistair was, mostly because I didn't have any plans to execute. I dressed and then wandered my way to the main doors of the castle. I'm not really sure how "ten minutes" was supposed to work because it wasn't like we had wristwatches, but I'm pretty sure he was a few minutes late. I could understand why, though, when he came up to me with a tent held beneath his arm, a lantern dangling in one hand, and two bedrolls shoved beneath his other arm. I reached out and took the lantern from him and, after a few minutes of convincing, he let me take one of the bedrolls.

The sun was on its way down but there was still more than enough light for us to walk from the castle and out on to the grounds, far away but not even halfway to the village. By the time we made camp for the two of us the sun was still peaking up halfway over the nearest hill. We put up the tent and made a small fire, sitting in the open flap of the tent practically onto of each other.

It was different; there was an electric charge between us but an awkwardness also. It had come slowly in the bathroom but overwhelmed us and now, going through the motions of setting up camp, we had slowly forgotten how much we needed each other. My desire for him still hummed beneath the surface but it was, honestly, nice to just be alone with him.

"So...uhh," he cleared his throat, turning his head a little to look at me. His smile was lopsided, an easy grin hid the embarrassment that colored his cheeks.

I laughed a little and leaned into him, resting my head against his chin and shoulder. "Hmm?"

"I haven't," he started, hand moving slowly over to take one of mine, "I haven't told you in a while…well, not since the first time, I guess. But I do love you, Gwen."

"I know, Alistair," I smiled, tilting my head to kiss his jaw. "And I…I love you. It seems crazy, but everything does. And I'm completely okay with that. And I want you to know we still don't have to do anything."

He snorted and turned, practically pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. I could feel his desire to not wait against me and he buried his face against my neck. "I don't think I can. I'm going to get myself killed in battle because I can't focus when you're next to me."

I ran my fingers along his bare arm as he held me tightly against him, relaxing in his arms. I laughed a little at what he said, turning to kiss him. "Well, I know what you mean...every time I so much as think about you I feel like I'm going to lose it."

"Really?" he asked, eyes wide a little as he looked at me. "You mean…you feel…you want…"

"Yes," I grinned and kissed him again, "Alistair, I want you to…I want you to touch me. Everywhere."

His hand moved slowly from my back around my side and to my leg, resting high up on my thigh. "Let's," he started, his hand trailing up to the drawstring of my pants, "…get in the tent."

I climbed out of his lap and into the tent. We sat across from each other, smiling slightly embarrassedly, and Alistair let out a heavy sigh. "So what…do we do?"

"What do you want to do?" I asked, fiddling with the bottom hem of my pants and glancing away from him slightly.

"Touch you," he said slowly, quietly, "…everywhere."

My cheeks flushed with color and heat when I looked up at him, seeing a look in his eyes I couldn't remember seeing before. It was not unlike the look he had had when I was naked in the bathroom earlier that night, but more intense. More serious. More…needy. More desiring.

"Then…" I smiled a little and moved my hands to curl my fingers around the bottom of my shirt and tugged it over my head. I let out a shaky breath as I tucked the shirt next to me on the blanket I had rolled out. "Your turn," I raised my eyebrows, unable to raise just one eyebrow, and settle my hands on my knees.

Alistair chuckled nervously and, after a second, he removed his shirt too. I inhaled sharply at the sight of him, desire thrumming through me. "What next?"

It would be difficult to remove my pants in the tent but I managed to do so by getting on my knees and pulling my pants down before sitting back down and tugging them off the rest of the way. It wasn't beautiful or graceful, but it worked.

Alistair mimicked my motions and before I could stop myself I had crossed the small space between us, sitting on my knees in front of him. I put my hands on his knees and it was difficult for me not to focus on the obvious strain of his underthings. The rather impressive strain, if I do say so.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," he murmured, his hand curving around my cheek while his other tucked my hair behind my ear.

"So are you," I replied, sliding my hands further up his legs. His breath moved in sharply and I couldn't help but grin at him. "Do you like that?"

"No one's ever…touched me like this," he spoke quietly, eyes on my hands.

"Just you wait, you gorgeous man," I smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips before I ducked my head and kissed his chest. He let out a shaky sigh and his hands, which had moved to my thighs, squeezed gently in response. "I'm going to do a lot of things no one has ever done for you before. Now…lay down."

I sat back and he looked at me in the eyes for a long moment before he consented and laid down on his back in the middle of the tent. With cheeks aflame, I tentatively moved over and straddled his stomach gently. He looked shocked, surprised, and uncomfortable but not in a bad way.

His hands moved from his sides and slid slowly to my hips. "You're so…warm."

I laughed a little nervously, spreading my fingers out over his chest before I leaned down to kiss him. His hands held a little tighter on to my hips before one slid up my back. When I sat up, both of his hands were working on unwrapping my breastband. It was surprisingly easier than taking off a bra and we sat quietly for a moment as his eyes roamed over me.

"Can I…touch you?" he asked, his hands on my waist.

"You don't have to ask, Alistair. Do whatever feels right. I'll let you know if I like it or not. But, between you and me, I'll probably like it," I grinned, leaning over him a little and letting my hands press into the blanket beneath us. His hands moved up from my waist to slowly spread across my breasts. He was gentle as his fingers cupped me, his sword-rough palms grazing my already hard nipples. The feeling shot straight to the place between my legs and I moaned quietly into the kiss I had started. He pulled back, looking up at me.

"That's good, right?"

"Yes, love. That noise is good."

He grinned as I kissed him again and his hands moved a little harder, squeezing my breasts but not hurting me. He realized after touching me for a moment that I liked when he paid attention to my nipples, so he paid more attention to them and I couldn't keep kissing him for all the moaning I was doing. I almost thought I would climax from those touches alone. He slowed down and then pulled his hands away, my breath coming rapidly as his hands moved around, exploring my bare upper half. I leaned down again and pressed kisses all over him, from his lips to his chest. I lifted myself off of him and moved down, slowly, kissing across his stomach and to the top of the shorts he wore for underwear.

"Maker, Gwen," he said breathlessly, his hands on my shoulders as my hair brushed along his naked stomach.

"I'm going to take these off," I said, hooking my fingers beneath the waistband of his underclothes before I tugged slightly. He lifted his hips and pulled them off. I nearly died at the sight of him, standing at full attention. He was quite a bit harrier than I was used to, but then again so was I by that time. I had managed to cut it down to be more manageable but I was used to shaving. I slid my hands up his thighs to his hips, not quite touching the place on him that was begging for me. And then I kissed him, from the knee to his hip and he was all bucking up to me by the time I positioned myself above him. With one hand I held myself up, the other hand I pulled my hair over one shoulder before I leaned down. I licked my lips and opened my mouth, slowly taking the tip of him into my mouth.

The words that left his mouth were quite impressive and he throbbed as I slid my mouth down as far as I could, a little more than halfway, before coming back up. He left my mouth with a light pop from the suction and he groaned, his fingers grasping the blanket beside him.

"What…that felt so amazing," he breathed as I moved off of him and removed my own underwear. "It's a good thing you stopped, though. I don't know how long I could have lasted. Maybe…next time?"

I laughed a little as I sat on my knees beside him, "Yes, Alistair, I can do that again. Whenever you want." Because, honestly, I didn't mind. And his reaction was completely worth it.

"Is it my turn?" he asked, lifting himself to his elbows, his face flushed.

I shrugged a little, smiling. "It's up to you, Alistair. We can do whatever you want."

"I want to touch you," he touched me gently on the shoulder, guiding me to lie down in his place. He remained seated next to me for a moment, eyes raking over me before he moved to position himself over me. He held himself above me with one hand and his knees. He used his other hand to touch me, to continue to play with my breasts and nipples. His lips moved from my mouth to my chest and, eventually, they found the perky little nub that his fingers had been toying with. I let out a hiss of breath as his tongue flicked across it and I lifted my hips, bucking up and he moaned against my skin when my skin brushed against the head of his cock.

He moved further down after I started wriggling beneath him, kissing across the abs that were slowly becoming evident beneath my skin to my hips that were much more evident than they had been back home. He paused a moment, just looking at me before his hands pressed my legs out from the inside of my thigh and he leaned down.

His breath on me was almost enough to drive me over the edge and I was seeing stars by the time his finger brushed the hub of nerves between my legs. I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something when his mouth closed over it. When his finger slid into me, I exploded around him, my hands digging into the blanket beneath me and he moved his head back, looking up at me. "You liked that, right?"

"Oh god, yes, Alistair," I moaned, nodding vehemently as he continued to bring me back to the brink again.

"I need you," I hissed, my fingers grasping at his shoulders. "Alistair, I need you inside of me."

He groaned at my words and was aligned with my body in a flash; he was even bigger than I thought he was as I looked down between our bodies. I had never had real sex before but between all of the activities in my life, I no longer had the barrier between my legs that most virgins did. I didn't think it would matter much; putting that inside of me was probably going to hurt either way.

With my legs spread as wide as they went, Alistair kissed me again before he tilted his head down, propping himself on one arm and both knees as he leaned back a little to investigate the goings-on. "What…" he murmured, making a concentrated face as he gripped himself in one hand and rubbed the tip on the moist lips below my hips. I bit my lip at the feeling, preparing every fiber of my being for the feeling before he found the right angle and slid into me a little at a time. We both let out gasps at the feeling – it did hurt, but that wasn't why I was reacting. It was the most indescribable feeling, having him fill me up just a little at a time.

"This is," he breathed, not finishing the sentence as he pushed himself all the way in. I felt a tightness in my chest and I wanted him to move, I wanted to move with him. "Can I?"

"Oh, Alistair, please," I whimpered, lifting my hips to press them to his. He made a noise low in his throat and pulled back only to push in again.

With all the work he had done on me before finally entering me, I was quick to climax with him inside of me. When my body shook with the force of my orgasm, my fingers tight on his shoulders and my kisses broken by moans, he followed shortly thereafter and the feeling was something else entirely.

He stayed where it was for a long while, growing soft inside of me, as he looked down into my face. I blushed, feeling awkward but not wanting to look away.

"That was…incredible," he murmured, tilting his head down to kiss me all over the face. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"Thank you?" I asked, smiling at him. "I feel like I should be thanking you. And we need to do that again."

"Soon," he responded, grinning at me before he slowly pulled himself off of me and stretched out along my side. "Very soon, I hope."

"How long do you think we can get away with staying here?" I asked, snuggling against his side and letting him settle his hand across my stomach.

"Until lunch, I imagine. We'll have to set out tomorrow before dinner if we want to make any kind of headway before dark."

"Do you think…" I started, glancing up at him before looking directly at his chest, "do you think that we could do this…you know, at camp?"

I looked up again and saw the color in his cheeks but he nodded, "I don't think I can be around you for long and not want to. But you know, everyone is going to know about us after this."

"Sweetheart, it wasn't like we were hiding it particularly well before."

"But, you know, it'll be really obvious now. Because you make these wonderful noises…"

I laughed a little, slightly embarrassed, and pressed my lips to his chest. "Only when you do such amazing things."

"Next time I'll do more. I just couldn't help myself."

"I hope you can't ever. Help yourself, I mean."


	30. Babies and Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but I wanted to update. I've gotten a few chapters of the new/second story written but I have to type them up and I'm lazy. Started the next chapter for _Rogue_ and I'll be posting another chapter for this one hopefully within a week. I'm going to start trying to update weekly...who knows, though. I always have the best intentions.

I hate walking. I never really realized it when almost 100% of my waking hours didn’t consist of it but, as I sat down beside our fire , it hit me how much I really, really didn’t ever want to walk again. We were barely halfway to Orzammar, so there was a lot of walking in my future. And then we’d have to walk back. And then I’m sure we’d walk some more.

I must’ve had the sourest of looks on my face because Zevran sat close to me – it didn’t bother me, although Alistair didn’t seem to like it too much – and touched my arm lightly.

“You look distraught, mi amour.”

I shrugged a little and stretched my legs out in front of me. “Sick of walking. But life is good.”

“Life is good, you say. And how might that be, my dear Warden?” He looked bemused at my response.

“For the first time in my life, Zev, I have a purpose. An honest-to-God – the Maker, whatever – purpose. I have friends. Hell, I’d even say I have family that cares about me. And Alistair.” I paused, sighing a little as I leaned down to stretch out my muscles. “I may nearly die almost every day, but life is very, very good.”

“I suppose if you ignore all of the death and destruction.” He smiled a little, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s not even that. My life before stumbling into Ostagar was lackluster at the best of times and downright awful at others. I am a person that people look to, respect, like now. Someone loves me, Zevran, and that is something worth facing death for.”

“Money,” he responded, and I gave him a curious look. “Money is something worth facing death for.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I reached a hand out and touched his shoulder. “That I don’t have much of. But love…I am overflowing. All of you, my friends and family. I love you and I would do anything to keep you safe.”

“Me?” he asked, genuinely taken aback.

Again, I laughed and patted his shoulder before taking back my hand. “I said so, didn’t I?”

And the smile he gave me was, I believe, the first true smile I had ever seen from him.

I was telling the truth as much as I knew. Certainly we had our differences of opinion, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t deeply care for my companions.

Later that evening, we were found by a man named Levi Dryden and we were implored to assist in recovering Soldier’s Peak. I agreed without question – it was a good idea and Duncan had, according to this man, made a promise. We found the location in a few days and dispatched the monsters in short order. I followed my gut which allowed Avernus to live but not the demon in Sophia. I also took the vial, although I did not drink it. Both Alistair and Aedan questioned that final choice.

“I did what I thought was best, as I always do,” I responded to their disagreement as we made a fire in the drafty main room. “I felt compelled to keep it, as though I will need it some day.”

“That’s the blood magic,” Alistair frowned, scratching the back of his head. It was clear he didn’t want to outwardly disagree with me on this in a particularly harsh manner, but it was also clear that my decision made him very uncomfortable.

“Poppycock,” I waved my hand dismissively, snuggling into my bedroll. “If that were true, it would be in my belly now. I may never drink it, but I felt like it was better to have it than to not.”

There was no convincing them, but they dropped it shortly thereafter because they knew they couldn’t convince me either.

We still had one person on watch that night, despite being in a building. We thought we had cleared the place, but just in case we wanted to be safe. And Avernus was creepy, in my personal opinion.

I was on last watch and so, when Morrigan shook me, I sat up slowly before standing and reattaching my full armor.

Morrigan followed me when I moved away from the group and she spoke in a hushed tone.

“Do you still intend to face Flemeth on my behalf?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation, toying with the feathers on the end of one of my arrows.

“When?”

“I imagine on the way to find the Dalish. It makes the most sense, travel-wise. I don’t suppose you’ll be joining us?”

“It is far too dangerous, especially if you are to best her. She may attempt to take me over in that moment and then all would be for naught.” 

I neglected to share my opinion with her that, if Flemeth was everything we believed her to be, she would likely be able to find Morrigan and do so regardless. Instead, I assured her that I would confront Flemeth at our first opportunity.

I also did not tell her that, after having some time to think it over, I did not believe I would actually go through with it. Not because I didn’t value Morrigan, nor because I thought that we couldn’t best the woman. Something was off about the whole thing and I refused to make any rash decisions without knowing as much of the truth as possible.

But I certainly wasn’t about to tell that to Morrigan.

After a few minutes of silence, Morriga left me to go back to sleep. I paced the room several times, stopping to look over the worn tapestries.

And it hit me. Or rather, hit me again. I was lost in a time and place that, to the best of my knowledge, did not really exist. Was I so far back in time that our history books had lost the truth? Was everyone, in the end, so decimated that there was no one left to tell the truth? Or was I in some bizarre alternative universe?

It wasn’t necessarily a bad place to be, but I really needed to figure out how to introduce toilet paper to these people. And some kind of tooth brush. That shouldn’t be too hard. Maybe I could invent the shower and toilet too, I thought.

All in all, the hygiene stuff had stopped bothering me a while ago. It was way too weird at first not to shave before getting personal with Alistair but he didn’t know the difference. It was kind of freeing, truth be told. And the fact that he still found me beautiful made me seriously question all of the crazy things that we did to ourselves back…forward? then.

I no longer thought of the time I came from as home. I was happy, despite the fear of dying on the regular. Speaking of regular, ladytime had stopped. Or at least was a lot different. I wasn’t sure if it was the exercise or the Taint, but I was hardly complaining. I didn’t have the energy or motivation to spend worrying about what this meant for pregnancy. Alistair and I had not discussed marriage, let alone children. Although he had mentioned that all the Grey Wardens he knew that had children had had them before they took the Joining. It was best, though, because I wasn’t entirely keen on finding out what kind of weirdo birth control this time or place had.


End file.
